Falling In Love With You
by SpectraVondergeist
Summary: Rebellious teens Bex and Bowie meet and fall in love. But are first loves meant to last forever?
1. Chapter 1 Bowie

Chapter 1. Bowie

Rebecca Mack rubbed her wet hair with a towel one last time. She gave the damp strands a flip, admiring her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The red streaks in her hair looked even better against her natural black than she expected. They were so _her_.

She grinned, satisfied, and turned up the radio, humming along to her favorite Avril Lavigne song. She began digging through her jewelry box, trying to find her favorite choker.

All Summer long, she'd been planning to reinvent herself, and it all led up to this day, her first day of eleventh grade. It was going to be her best school year yet. She could feel it.

She was jolted from her thoughts by her mother knocking on the looked bathroom door. "Rebecca, turn that garbage down. You're going to be late for school!"

She sighed, annoyed, and flipped the radio off. "It's Bex, mom!" she shouted. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Bex!"

"You don't have to yell, _Rebecca,_ " Celia Mack replied. "I'm standing right here, unless that ear trash you listen to is making you lose your hearing. And I will not call you by that ridiculous name."

"You never listen to me!" Bex shot back. "Everything always has to be your way!"

Suddenly, Celia's eyes widened and she screamed. "What have you done?"

Bex retreated a little, fingering the tips of her hair sheepishly, wondering if she'd made a mistake. "I-I dyed it."

Ham Mack came running to Bex's bathroom to see what was going on, since by the way his wife had shrieked, someone had surely been murdered. "What is all this shouting about?"

"I dyed my hair," Bex said softly. But no one heard her.

"Look what she's done to herself now!" Celia told her husband. "Her beautiful hair, ruined."

 _"Bex,"_ Ham sighed, smoothing back his own graying hair; he liked to jokingly say he'd had a full head of blond hair... until Bex was born. "First the bellybutton ring, then the tattoos, and now this. What's next?"

Bex cringed internally, recalling her attempt at piercing her own bellybutton, and the infection that resulted. And the temporary tattoos she'd gotten at an outdoor concert, which she'd had an allergic reaction to. "Sorry, dad."

"It's just dye," Ham reasoned, turning to his wife. "I'm sure it's temporary." He looked back at his daughter. "It _is_ temporary, right?"

"Semi-permanent," Bex mumbled.

 _"Bex,"_ Ham groaned.

"She has no respect for herself, or us," Celia ranted, shaking her head. "She's out of control."

Ham put his hand on his wife's shoulder. "She's a teenager, Celia. She's just trying to figure out who she is." He gave Bex a pointed look. "Although she might have gone about it in a better way. Like writing poetry, or joining a school club." He gave his daughter a wink, betraying the stern look he was trying to maintain.

"Where did we go wrong with her?" Celia asked. "She used to be such a good little girl. Remember how sweet she was?"

"She's still the same girl," Ham told his wife. "In a few years, the two of you will be best friends."

"Yeah, doubt it," Bex said, rolling her dark eyes. She rushed past her parents, grabbing her book bag.

"Young lady, get back here and apologize to your mother!" Ham called.

"Sorry, I'm gonna be late for school," she said, heading for the door.

"Bex!" her father shouted. "You forgot your camera!"

She turned back and grabbed her camera bag from her desk. "Thanks, dad."

* * *

Bex's best school year yet was not off to an auspicious start. She was tense as she walked toward Jefferson High, replaying her fight with her parents in her head. Was she really as terrible as her mother said?

For years, she'd striven to be the perfect, studious, dutiful Asian daughter, like her goody-goody older cousin Ling. She'd practiced her piccolo for an hour a day, went to Chinese lessons on Saturdays, and worked her butt off to bring home A.'s.

But about a year ago, she realized she wasn't living her life for _herself_ , she was living it for her mother, by trying to be someone she wasn't. Who she was, was a mediocre student, who liked punk rock, bad boys, and photography, and desperately wanted a motorcycle. So she'd decided to embrace herself instead of fighting it. In theory, she should never have been happier. And she would be happy, if it weren't for the tension between herself and her parents that her new look and attitude had created.

She reached Jefferson, her mood getting worse. Bex hated school; she hated the way it smelled, the homework, gym class. She would go crazy if it weren't for the boys there. She'd always been the kind of girl who was popular with the boys, but not so much with other girls. As a result, she had an undeserved reputation for being promiscuous. Which was painfully ironic, since she'd never even _had_ a boyfriend. And because of her reputation, she didn't have a ton of close friends.

Emily Miller was her best friend. They'd known each other since kindergarten. Emily wasn't the kind of girl who would stab you in the back, like most of the other girls Bex knew. She waved as she saw her friend hurrying across the courtyard to meet her.

"Bex, you look so cute!" Emily cried.

"Thanks," Bex said. She was wearing a red tank top, with a fringed black tank layered over it, and black jeans. "So do you!" She reached out to hug her friend. "Do you like my hair? Is it too much?"

"Are you kidding? It looks amazing," Emily told her.

Just then, the first bell rang, and Bex and Emily hurried to homeroom.

Bex's mind wandered as she sat in class, listening to her homeroom teacher go over school rules. School was just like home- an endless list of things she couldn't wear, say, or do. She tuned it out, doodling on her notebook.

She barely noticed when the classroom door opened, and a boy walked in.

"You're late, young man," the teacher said.

"Sorry," the boy replied. "New here. I'm still trying not to get lost."

"That's fine. Take a seat."

The boy breezed past Bex and Emily, and sat down somewhere behind them. Seconds later, Bex felt Emily's shoe tap hers. She glanced down and stepped on the note her friend had passed, then pretended to scratch her ankle and picked it up. Slowly, she unfolded it under her desk.

 _Who_ _is_ _that?_ Emily had written.

Bex glanced back to sneak a peek at the boy. Their eyes met briefly, and he gave her a small wave. His lips turned up as if he were laughing about something private. Blushing, she turned around and scribbled back, _No idea, but he's_ _hot_.

She dropped the note and kicked it back to Emily.

* * *

The only highlight of the school day was photography class. Incidentally, it was the last period of the day. Bex plodded through her boring classes until seventh period finally arrived, then rushed to the photography room, toting her beloved camera, and sat down in her seat before the bell rang.

The photography teacher, Ms. Fisher, introduced herself. She was young and dressed cool. Bex liked her right away; she seemed like the kind of person _she_ wanted to be when she was older, and she didn't talk to her students like they were idiots. Bex had noticed a motorcycle parked in the teachers' parking lot that morning, and she secretly hoped it was hers.

After Ms. Fisher passed out the course syllabuses, she began assigning cameras to the class. "Rebecca Mack?" she asked, when she came to Bex's table.

"Oh. I have my own camera," Bex told her, holding it up to show her.

Ms. Fisher examined it. "It's a nice one! You're a lucky girl, Rebecca."

"Thanks. But could you please call me Bex?"

"Of course, Bex," Ms. Fisher nodded, with a smile. She made a note on the class roster.

Bex zoned out while the teacher guided the class through camera care and operation. She knew it all already; she even had her own little darkroom in the basement at home. But she paid close attention to her first assignment.

"I want you to take a photo of something you find beautiful," Ms. Fisher said. "It can be anything, as long as it's unique and tells a story. I want to see out of the box thinking. Your photos must be developed by Friday." The first bell rang. "Now get out of here," she winked.

Bex smiled. Out of the box thinking was the one thing she was good at. Her whole life, she'd never really felt like she belonged in _any_ box. She left class with a spring in her step, her chunky soled shoes squeaking on the ugly tile floor.

Stepping out of school and into the courtyard, she was already looking for inspiration for her photography project. She looked through the lens of her camera, turning in a circle, trying to find something worth capturing on film.

"Duck!"

She reacted, but not soon enough. A football came flying toward her, striking her in the back of the head. As she stumbled forward, she hit the shutter of her camera, and it went off.

"Watch it!" she shouted at the football player who'd thrown the ball, as he sprinted past her. She clutched her camera protectively to her chest.

"Are you okay?"

Bex looked up to see the hottie from homeroom, sitting on the school stoop, with a guitar on his lap. She hadn't had a good look at him earlier, but now she couldn't help but stare. He had curly brown hair, and shiny green eyes. Or were they brown? Or... blue? She couldn't tell. But he was even cuter than she remembered.

Especially when he smiled, revealing straight teeth and deep dimples in his cheeks.

She touched the back of her head, her pulse speeding up.

"Are you okay?" he repeated. "Should I get the nurse?"

"Um, no. I'm fine," she stammered. "Thanks."

"I hope you at least got my good side," he said, smiling an adorably crooked smile.

 _Like he_ had _a bad side_ , she thought. "Oh yeah. I guess I did get your picture." She shrugged awkwardly. "Sorry about that."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. That's a cool camera." He nodded his perfect chin toward her.

"My dad gave it to me for Christmas," she told him, not that he'd even asked. "Nice guitar."

"Thanks." He flashed his winning smile again. "What's your name?"

"Bex," she answered. ""Bex Mack."

"Bex?" he repeated. "What kind of name is that?"

She twisted a strand of artificially red hair around her finger. "It's just a nickname. My real name is Rebecca. But it's not really... me, you know?"

"Bex _is_ a weird name," he winked. "But it is kind of cool." He hopped off the stoop to stand in front of her. "I'm Bowie Quinn."

"And you think _my_ name is weird?" she teased.

He laughed, shrugging. "My mom is a David Bowie fan. What can I say?"

"It's a cool name," she admitted. She watched his eyes twinkle amber, then teal. They were the most mesmerizing eyes she'd ever seen. Suddenly, she had to know what color they really were. She took a step toward him, looking closely at his face.

"What?" he asked, touching his nose. "Do I have a bat in the cave?"

She blushed, mortified. "I- no. I just wanted to see what color your eyes are. They're hazel," she added. _Duh!_

"I know," he said, suppressing a laugh.

"Of course you do." Her cheeks burned. "I feel like such a dork right now."

"You are a dork. But a _cute_ dork."

Was it possible to blush any more? "You think I'm cute?"

He nodded. "You look like that chick from that Disney movie. The one with the little red dragon guy?"

"Mulan?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "That's her name."

Bex smiled shyly. How could he possibly know that _Mulan_ had been her favorite movie as a kid (and maybe _still_ was)? It had to be a sign. "Well, I don't have a dragon," she told him. "But I am half-Chinese."

"Cool." He nodded his approval. "Do you speak Chinese?"

"Not really," she admitted. It was embarrassing how little she'd retained in Chinese School. "Some. Mostly just the swear words."

Bowie chuckled. "What else would you need to know?"

"Right," she giggled, relieved to finally have gotten past the awkwardness of their conversation. "So what kind of music do you play?" She gestured to his guitar.

"Rock," he told her. "And a few ballads. I'm in a band with some buds. You should see us play sometime."

"That would be sweet," she agreed. She was doing cartwheels on the inside. He was a rocker! A _cute_ rocker!

"Well, I've gotta go," she said reluctantly. "It was nice meeting you. Maybe I'll see you around?"

"Nice meeting you too," said Bowie. "Maybe we can have lunch together tomorrow?"

"Awesome." She started to walk away.

"Hey, Bex?"

She turned back. "Yeah?"

"Make sure you let me know how that picture turns out."

She smiled. "Will do."

* * *

 _Bowie_

 _Bowie_

 _Bowie_

 _Bowie Quinn_

 _Rebecca Quinn_

 _Bex Quinn_

 _Bex Mack-Quinn_

 _Mrs. Bowie Quinn_

 _Bex + Bowie_

Bex stared into space, doodling mindlessly. She'd had a lot of crushes over the years, but she was never the kind of girl to fall in love with a cute guy in five minutes, or giggle like an idiot around him, or write his name on her notebooks.

But her Spanish homework told another story. It was literally an ode to Bowie. Their names were written in every way she could think of, from cursive to fat bubble letters.

She dropped her purple, feather-topped gel pen when there was a knock on her bedroom door. "I'm doing my homework!"

"It's dad, honey," her father called. "I just want to talk to you for a minute."

"Come in," she sighed, annoyed at being torn away from her fantasies about Bowie.

Her dad came into the room and pulled a chair up to her desk. He often came to chat with her after he got home from work. She secretly loved their talks, and looked forward to them, although it wouldn't be cool to admit it.

"How's my favorite girl?" he winked. "Did you have a good first day?"

She smiled. "Other than an incident with a football, it was okay."

"That's great." He patted her on the shoulder. His eyes fell on her desk. "Homework on the first day? That stinks." He frowned, squinting. "I'm not familiar with that particular Spanish verb, though. _Bowie?"_

Bex's eyes widened. She shoved her homework into her folder like it was a live grenade.

Her dad's blue eyes twinkled with humor. "So, who's this Bowie?"

"Just some guy from school, dad," she groaned. "No one."

"Well, he must be someone special to have a whole homework assignment devoted to him."

 _"Dad."_

"I won't pry," Ham promised. "But you remember the rule, right? No dating."

"I know." Her heart sunk. She'd forgotten. In her mind, she and Bowie were already married and honeymooning on Martha's Vineyard.

"And Bex," he said. "I still want you to apologize to your mother for this morning. She was very upset."

"I will," she sighed.

"You know that it was wrong to dye your hair without permission, right?"

"I guess," she shrugged.

"Why do you want to change yourself all the time?" Ham asked her, his light tone gone. "You're beautiful exactly the way you are, honey. You don't need to change a thing."

Bex's heart squeezed. "Thanks, dad." she touched the tips of her hair. "But... I really like the red. I want to keep it."

"Well," he reasoned. "What's done is done. I guess it won't hurt anything to let it wash out on it's own. But no more stunts like this."

"Okay."

He stood up and kissed the top of her head. "I'll let you get back to your work." He left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Bex looked down at her books, but she knew there was no way she could concentrate.

She went to her bed and flopped face-down. She wanted to cry. Her mom had a lot of rules, but her firmest and most unfair rule was that Bex wasn't to have a boyfriend until she was eighteen. She just met the boy of her dreams, and she couldn't even date him for two years.

But then, it hit her.

She was _sixteen_. Practically an adult. Her mom didn't need to know everything she did, did she? Maybe she _could_ date Bowie... without her parents knowing?


	2. Chapter 2 The First Date

Chapter 2. The First Date

Bex held her plastic lunch tray and looked around the school cafeteria. She was searching for Bowie while trying to remain nonchalant. Maybe he'd changed his mind about eating with her, or had never even been serious in the first place?

Emily was already at their usual table, along with a few of their other friends.

She was just about to give up on Bowie, and go over and sit with them, when she saw him across the cafeteria. He saw her too. He smiled, waving her over.

She held up her finger to tell him she'd be right there, then she rushed over to Emily's table.

"Hey, baby." Joel Tan reached out and slapped her on the butt. "I saved you a seat." He patted his lap.

Bex ignored him. He was an idiot. She went to Emily and leaned down to whisper, "I promised someone else I'd sit with them today. I hope you don't mind. You can sit with us if you want," she added as an afterthought. Though, she secretly hoped her friend would refuse.

Emily shook her head. "You go ahead. Someone needs to stay here and keep these losers in line." She smacked Joel across the head playfully.

"You're the best, Em," she said. "See you in gym."

Smiling, she hurried to Bowie's table. "Hey!"

He flashed his Gap model smile. "Hey, you. I was getting worried you were gonna stand me up."

She sat down across from him. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"So, was that your boyfriend?" He glanced over at Joel.

"Joel?" Bex exclaimed, laughing. "Not if he were the last guy on earth!" Bex had known Joel for years, since their moms worked together, but she didn't like him very much to be honest. She simply tolerated him. He was immature, always full of sexual remarks and dirty jokes. The rest of the guys were good people though; skaters and punks, misunderstood like her.

Bowie's smile instantly became brighter. He honestly had the most expressive face Bex had ever seen; his smiles went all the way to his eyes. "I've been looking forward to this all day," he told her.

She blushed a little. "You have?"

He snorted. "Um, _yeah!"_ He gestured to his tray. "It's pizza day!"

Bex wilted a little, looking down at her own square of doughy cafeteria pizza. "Oh. Yeah. Who doesn't love pizza?"

Bowie laughed. "I'm just messing with you, Bex."

"Good one."

"I really have been looking forward to talking to you again," he told her. "You're my first friend in Shadyside. And you seem fun to hang out with."

"So do you, Mister Rock Star," she teased, taking a bite of pizza.

He chuckled. "I wouldn't say I'm a rock star yet. Maybe a rock star in training?" He nodded to her. "I don't want to talk about me, though. Tell me everything about yourself."

"What?" She set her pizza down, surprised. No one had ever asked her that before, and his question had come out of the blue.

"I want to know all about you," he said. "What's your family like? Do you get along with them?"

Bex picked at her black nail polish nervously. "Next question."

Bowie groaned. "I blew it already, didn't I?" His gorgeous hazel eyes were suddenly serious. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked something personal."

She shrugged. "It's fine."

He shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I'm just such an open book, I expect everyone to be that way, I guess."

An uncomfortable silence came between them.

"I'm closer to my dad," she admitted, breaking the awkward silence. She wiped her mouth with a napkin. "My mom doesn't really get me, so we don't always see eye to eye." That was an understatement, but she didn't want to scare him away so soon with the details. "It's complicated."

Bowie's smile returned. "So... what's your favorite color?"

Bex laughed, relieved that he'd changed the subject. "Red," she told him, fingering the tips of her hair. "Obviously."

"Mine too!" he told her. "Cool!"

"Red is a lucky color in Chinese culture," she explained. "So, I always feel more confident when I wear it. I know it's just superstition..."

"Don't dismiss superstition," he said. "Those things people have believed in for centuries must be rooted in some truth. And even if it's not lucky, it's a good color on you."

"You think so?" she asked, looking down at her red shirt.

"Yeah," he nodded. "It looks nice with your dark hair and eyes."

Bex opened her pudding cup, feeling warm inside. "Thanks."

They talked all through the rest of the lunch period. Bex learned that Bowie's parents were former hippies, who met in a commune, but now his mother was a florist and his father was a mechanic and amateur musician (emphasis on amateur, he'd added, laughing). He'd been playing guitar for five years. He wrote song lyrics about everything and kept them in a journal, and he was deeply spiritual, but not religious.

Her life seemed so dull compared to his. She went to school, came home, did her homework, argued with her mom, and went to bed. And there was an occasional babysitting job thrown in for color. But Bowie listened intently to every word she said; he didn't just nod at the right times, but _really_ listened, as if she were the most interesting person in the world. The only other person who was that interested in her life was her dad.

"Can I have your number?" he asked before lunch ended. "Maybe we can hang out sometime?"

"I'd love that!" she said, fully aware of how over-eager she sounded. She took her cell phone, with it's little skull charm dangling from it, out of her purse and flipped it open. "Can I have your number too?"

"Yeah!" He took his own phone out and they traded, adding each other to their contact list.

"Can I call you tonight?" Bowie asked her.

"Yeah!" she nodded. "That would be great!" She paused as her mother entered her euphoric thoughts and brought her back down to earth. "Actually... could I call you instead?" If her mom heard her phone ringing, she would want to know who Bex was talking to.

"That's cool with me," he nodded. "So long as I get to talk to you."

Bex smiled happily. "It's a date." Her cheeks reddened. "I mean- you know what I mean."

Bowie blushed this time. "I know what you mean."

That night, after Ham and Celia went to bed, Bex dialed Bowie from under her comforter, to muffle her voice while they talked. And they talked for two hours straight. Bowie was so funny, and so interesting. And he made her feel special. She could have talked to him all night. When they hesitantly hung up, she lay in the dark, still holding her phone. If keeping him a secret was this easy, she thought, her mom would never find out.

* * *

"Bex, that is an amazing photo," Ms. Fisher said, standing over Bex's shoulder in the school darkroom, where she was supervising students as they processed their first assignments.

The day before, Bex had processed the negative of the photo she'd taken of Bowie and hung it up to dry. Now, she had just taken the newly developed photo out of the fixer and submerged it in water, rinsing it clean before it went into the next chemical bath. She could have developed the photo at home, but she couldn't risk her parents seeing a picture of Bowie. School was safer.

"Thanks," she smiled, as she agitated the water a little. Stumbling while snapping the photo had given it an interesting effect, kind of blurry, though it's subject's face was clearer than the background.

"Is this your assignment for tomorrow?" her teacher asked, interested.

Bex finished processing the photo and hung it up to dry. She wasn't planning to use it as her assignment. What she'd been planning to do was hide it under her pillow so she could stare at it before bed every night. But who was she kidding? She hadn't given her homework much thought at all since meeting Bowie, and she definitely hadn't taken any other photos worth turning in. "Um, yeah. It is." she said. Might as well go with it.

"It has such an interesting composition," Ms. Fisher commented. "Tell me about it?"

"It's of a... friend," Bex told her. "I got hit with a football while I was taking it. That's why it looks kind of out of focus."

"Well, that was a happy accident," the young woman smiled. "It's definitely outside the box. If you keep up this kind of work, you'll excel in this class."

"Thank you, Ms. Fisher," Bex said. She hadn't heard a teacher praise her in quite a while. "That means a lot to me."

Her teacher winked. "I expect great things from you." She gave Bex's shoulder an encouraging pat before moving on to the next student.

* * *

The first two weeks of school had gone by in a flash. Bex and Bowie had eaten lunch together every day, and they talked on the phone almost every night. Bex had never looked forward to going to school more.

On the second Friday of the school year, Bex went to her usual lunch table, where Bowie was waiting, as always. "Hey!" she said, taking her seat across from him, the optimal spot for gazing into his gorgeous eyes.

"Hey!" He smiled his adorably crooked smile. She loved how happy he always seemed when he saw her.

"So, I got my photo back ," she said. In photography class, each student had to present their developed photo assignment to their classmates to critique. Bex had presented her photo of him the day before, and Ms. Fisher had returned it to her graded. "Take a look!"

Bowie took the photo from her and studied it. "Understated, yet bold," he said, scratching his chin thoughtfully, as if he were an art critic.

"You like it?" she asked hopefully. "Because I got an A on it."

"It's awesome!" he told her, enthusiastically. "It could be the cover of my first album. You have talent, Bex!"

"Maybe you're my muse?" she winked, hoping she sounded flirty.

Bowie's eyes lit up. "Speaking off muses..." he said. "I've been meaning to ask you, do you want to do something with me tomorrow night? Please say yes!"

"What did you have in mind?" she asked him. No that she wouldn't go wherever he wanted.

His face became animated. "That nightclub in town has a teen night one Saturday a month, and my band is performing. It's our first gig for a real audience!"

Bex had heard of the teen night at the club. A lot of kids from school went to it, but she'd never gone herself. "Bowie!" she cried. "That's so cool! Congratulations!"

He blushed proudly. "I really want you to be there to see us, because I have a surprise for you."

"What is it?" she asked him, her curiosity piqued.

"You'll just have to come and see," he winked.

"Oh come on," she pleaded. "I'm dying to know!"

"My lips are sealed," he teased, pretending to zip his lips.

"Well, I'll definitely be there," she promised him. "I wouldn't miss it for anything!"

"I'll pick you up at ten," he told her. "Then maybe we can hang out for a while after the show?"

"That sounds great!" She was already planning how she would sneak out of the house.

"And just so we're on the same page," Bowie said, as they returned their lunch trays. "Can we call this a date?"

She nodded. "I was hoping you would ask me that."

Bowie smiled, and took her hand in his.

* * *

Saturday night, Bex ate dinner and went straight to her room, telling her parents she wanted to read for a while.

Her wardrobe had already been selected the night before. Once she was alone, she got dressed and pulled out her secret stash of makeup. Her mother didn't allow her to wear anything other than tinted lip balm, another one of her ridiculous rules. But Bex still managed to buy makeup and keep it hidden away. She had another stash in her locker at school.

She laid her cosmetics out neatly on her dresser surface, trying to pick out the perfect shade of eye shadow to go with her green top. She wished her mom could understand why she liked and wanted to wear makeup. It wasn't just to fit in. It was about artistic expression. She loved seeing all the different shades, putting them on with precise brushes. And she was good at it, too. She could apply eyeliner better than most adults, she was sure.

She studied her face carefully in the mirror, then finished her look with a beaded black lace choker. She was ready. The only thing left to do was wait. She put her bathrobe on over her clothes and climbed into bed with the latest issue of Cosmo Girl until she heard her parents go up to their room.

Once she was sure they were in for the night, she pulled on her leather jacket and her new, chunky-soled shoes, which she'd bought with her babysitting money after mom had nixed buying them when they went school shopping.

Her stomach was full of butterflies. It was now or never. She arranged her pillows under her comforter, then she put her purse on her shoulder and went to the window.

Easing herself slowly out the window, she clung to Celia's rose trellis, carefully testing her weight. Her mouth was dry and her heart was pounding. Against her better judgement, she glanced at the dark ground below her.

It was a long way down.


	3. Chapter 3 Rock God

Chapter 3. Rock God

As soon as Bex's feet touched the ground and the cool night air hit her face, she felt an overwhelming sense of freedom and excitement. And that feeling only grew stronger once she and Bowie arrived at the club.

It was loud and dark inside, with strobe lights pulsating on the dance floor. They were a little bit disorienting, and Bex held tightly onto Bowie's hand, so they wouldn't get separated in the crowd.

She recognized a lot of kids from school, although, for the most part, they weren't her crowd. Some of them stared at her and Bowie as they passed by, especially the girls. She held onto his hand a little tighter, realizing they were envious that she was there with the cutest guy in school.

"Do you want a drink?" Bowie asked her.

"What?" She strained to hear him over the music the DJ was playing.

"Can I get you a drink?" he shouted.

"Sure!" Bex nodded, toying with the plastic wristband the bouncer had put on her wrist when they'd come in. "Thanks!" Her ears were already wringing.

Bowie went to the bar and returned with two sodas. "You look amazing," he told her, raising his voice again.

"So do you!" she called back. And he did. He was wearing black jeans, with a beat up band tee, and a leather jacket. He was the kind of guy who looked gorgeous effortlessly.

"I have to go warm up with the guys," he said. "We're going on in ten minutes." He reached between them for her hand. "Wish me luck?"

"Break a leg," she smiled. His hand was a little sweaty, and she could tell he was nervous. She gave him a reassuring nod.

He flashed his signature dimpled smile. "I'll be looking for you in the crowd." He squeezed her fingers lightly before disappearing into a back room.

"Bex!"

Bex turned to see Emily coming toward her. She waved, relieved to see her friend. "Hey, Em! I didn't know you were coming here tonight."

"I could say the same for you," Emily winked. "How'd you get past the mother?"

"I found a way around her," Bex said mysteriously. "Are you here with a guy?"

Emily nodded, pointing to one of their mutual friends. "What about you? I saw you come in with the hot new guy."

"That's Bowie," she said proudly. "His band is playing tonight."

"He's adorable," Emily told her. A knowing smile played on her lips. "I guess I know where _you've_ been sneaking off to every day at lunch. Or should I say, _who_ you've bee sneaking off too."

Bex shrugged, feeling guilty for a moment for not eating with her friend. "I'm sorry I haven't been sitting with you and the guys."

Emily snorted. "I wouldn't sit with me either if I could sit with him." She pushed back her unruly blond curls. "But seriously, he's welcome at our table too. Sit with us on Monday."

"Sure," Bex nodded. " And, Em? I know I don't have to tell you, but please don't mention him to my mom and dad if you see them."

"That's kind of a given," her friend told her. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me." She lowered her voice. "So is he officially your boyfriend? Everyone's wondering."

"I don't know," she realized, nodding her head to the music. "Maybe?" They hadn't really defined their relationship yet, even though Bex had thought of him as her boyfriend since they met, and they spent every free minute together, or talking to each other.

"Well, he's definitely into you," Emily told her. "You're the only girl he's looked at since you guys walked in. Natalie and Hayley are so jealous."

Bex smiled mischievously. Natalie and Hayley were two stuck up girls. Cheerleaders, as cliche as it was. Neither she or Emily liked them very much, and she was pretty sure they weren't Bowie's type either.

Emily reached out to squeeze her arm. "You're so lucky, Bex. I'm so happy for you."

Suddenly, the lights stilled and the spotlights focused on the small stage at the front of the room. A hush went over the crowd, though Bex's ears were still ringing from the music.

A scruffy looking guy introduced the band, and Bex moved closer to the front of the crowd so Bowie could see her, pulling Emily along with her.

The crowd cheered as Bowie and his band mates, three college-age guys, came onto the stage. Bowie took the microphone, looking cool, relaxed, and every bit a rock god. "Hey everyone!" he shouted. "We're Karmic Moon. We hope you enjoy the show!"

The started to play a cover of a popular rock song. Bowie expertly strummed the first chords on his guitar. His eyes fell on her as he began to sing. He gave her a secret smile, without missing a note. She smiled back, giving him a little wave.

He was talented. She could see why guys so much older had wanted them in their band. He was an amazing performer too. Everyone was cheering. She cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted out his name.

The band performed a few more covers. Bowie's eyes stayed on her as she listened, swaying along with the music. Then after their third song, Bowie tapped his microphone to get everyone's attention and cleared his throat. "The last song we'll be performing tonight is an original song I wrote for a special girl, to tell her how I feel." He winked at Bex.

Emily turned to her, wide-eyed. "Bex! He's talking about you! He wrote you a song!"

Bex nodded. She was speechless. So _this_ was his surprise. As the band started to play, her heart pounded in her chest and her palms began to sweat.

He began to sing a slower ballad in his soft, raspy voice. He kept his eyes on her the entire time, a smile playing on his pouty lips. He sang about how much he cared for her, how his heart belonged to her, and he couldn't live without her.

 _You, girl, are the answer and the question,_

 _A completely new dimension,_

 _Yeah, you are._

 _You, girl, took my heart, but you can't keep it,_

 _If you don't want it, I won't need it, anyhow._

 _You're everything I've learned so far,_

 _And the things that I don't know yet._

 _Every sunset, every star,_

 _I can't list all the things you are._

 _Yeah, you, girl, you make me weak, you make me strong,_

 _How would I ever get along,_

 _Without you, girl?_

When the last pure notes of the song faded, he thanked the crowd for listening, and hurried off the stage, straight to Bex. "So, what did you think? Did you like it?"

Bex wrapped her arms around his neck, looking him in the eye. "Does this answer your question?"

She pulled him closer, and their lips met. He kissed her softly but passionately. It wasn't Bex's first kiss, but it felt like it. No guy had ever come close to make her feel the way she did right then.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked, breaking their bond for a moment.

Bex nodded, unable to contain her smile. "I thought you'd never ask."

He took her back in his arms and gave her another tender kiss. A few people hooted and cheered. Bex lay her head on Bowie's shoulder, letting him hold her close.

* * *

Bex and Bowie had been dancing for a while when he leaned down close and said into her ear, "It's kind of loud in here. You want to go somewhere quieter?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Sounds good."

He grabbed his guitar case and took her by the hand. They stepped out of the hot club and into the mild Autumn night air. The sky was clear and full or stars. Bex had never felt so happy and light. She swung Bowie's arm as they walked to his car. "I can't believe you wrote a song for me," she said. "Talk about a grand gesture!"

Bowie smiled humbly as he put his guitar in the trunk. "I'm glad you liked it. It's how I really feel. You're the coolest, funniest, most beautiful girl I've ever known, Bex. I've liked you from the moment we met."

"I've liked you too," she admitted. "I'm so glad that football hit me."

He laughed. "Eh, I would've noticed you anyway. You're pretty hard to ignore." He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her again.

"I would've noticed you too," she told him. "I think every girl in school has noticed you. And a good percentage of the boys."

"Well, it turns out I only have eyes for one girl." He planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. "You." He combed his fingers through her hair, brushing it out of her face. "Lets go for a walk. I don't want this night to end yet."

Their hands found each other once again, and he laced his fingers through hers, sending sparks of electricity down her spine. They walked down the block quietly.

"I can't believe how talented you are," Bex said, breaking the silence. "You sing, play guitar, _and_ write songs. Everything I've ever written sounds like Dr. Seuss wrote it."

"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams," Bowie said softly.

"What?" Bex asked, glancing up at him.

"Dr. Seuss said that," He explained. "If you write like him, that's actually pretty awesome. The man was brilliant. _Go, Dog. Go_! is still like my favorite book ever."

Bex giggled. "I was more of a _Cat in the Hat_ kind of girl."

Somehow, they'd found their way to the park. It was completely empty, and a little bit eerie at night, but Bex felt safe with Bowie. They sat down on the swings, pushing them softly, dragging their feet against the ground.

"The guys in the band really liked the song too," Bowie told her. "We're going to put it on our first album. If we ever make one," he added.

"You _will_ make one," she promised. "You guys were awesome tonight. As good as anyone on the radio."

"That's what I want to do," he told her. "Be a musician, see the world..." He said it wistfully, as if he were unsure it would ever really happen.

"I don't know what I want to do with my life yet," Bex admitted. "But I know I want to get out of Shadyside. I want to travel. I want to see and experience everything out there."

"Maybe we'll see the world together?" he offered shyly. "You know, when I become a famous rock star?" He bumped her swing with his playfully.

"For what it's worth, you're already a rock star to me," she told him honestly. "I'll never forget this night as long as I live." It was the kind of story they'd tell they're kids one day, she thought. But she quickly brushed that notion away. She was getting _way_ ahead of herself.

Bowie looked up at the sky, his eyes twinkling. "You're amazing, Bex."

"So are you," she said. "This has been the best night of my life."

"I bet we can top it on our next date," Bowie challenged.

"You can try," she winked.

"Deal," he nodded. "But it's getting pretty late. I should probably get you home now."

Bex looked at her watch. It was already after midnight. "You're right," she sighed. She hated to see her magical night end.

"Hey," Bowie said, reaching over to touch her cheek. "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

"I'm not crying!" she said in mock defensiveness.

"That's another Dr. Seuss quote," he laughed. "I'm a fountain of useless trivia."

Leaving the swings twisting wildly, they walked back to Bowie's car, and made the short drive to Bex's house. When they arrived, Bowie parked on the curb. "Do you want me to walk you to your door?" he asked her.

"No!" Bex said, a little more quickly than she meant to. Realizing her mistake, she shook her head. "I mean, no thanks. I can walk myself."

He gave her a slightly hurt look. "Are you sure? You didn't let me pick you up at your door, either. Your parents must think I'm rude."

"I'm sure," she said, laying her hand on top of his and looking him in the eye. "My parents are probably asleep. I'm just gonna slip in so I don't wake them up."

"Okay," he nodded, seemingly satisfied with her explanation. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Of course," she nodded.

He leaned across the seat and kissed her, cupping her face in his hand. "Goodnight, Bex."

Their lips met again.

"Goodnight, Bowie."

After a few more soft kisses, she finally let herself out of the car and headed toward her dark house. Once she was sure Bowie had left, she went to the trellis below her window. She looked up at her curtains, which were blowing lightly in the breeze. Climbing down had been scary. Climbing up looked even worse.

Slowly, she found foot and handholds, and began the long climb, pausing to test it's strength before moving up another rung. The trellis moved a little every time she moved. She sucked in her breath, clinging to it. After what felt like an eternity, she was scrambling through her window, to safety.

Once the window was closed and she was on firm ground, she put her pajamas on and took out her memory box, an old cigar box her dad had given her when she was younger, and set it on her desk. It was mostly full of pictures of friends, postcards from relatives, and fortune cookie fortunes she'd saved.

But now, she finally had a beautiful, romantic, secret memory to tuck away in it.

She found a pair of scissors and snipped off her wristband from the club, and she laid it in her box. Then she replaced her memory box in her sock drawer and crawled into bed.

She'd just gotten settled under the covers when she heard the floorboards in the hall creak, the sound of footsteps coming closer and closer to her room. A strip of light fell across the floor as her mother cracked the door open and peeked in.

Bex squeezed her eyes closed, though her heart was beating so loudly, she worried Celia would hear it.

Finally, once her mother was satisfied that she was in bed, asleep, she closed the door and went back to her own room.

Bex slowly allowed herself to exhale. She'd gotten away with it. And it had been _so_ worth it.


	4. Chapter 4 The perfect Day

Chapter 4. The Perfect Day

Bex stood in the bathroom doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She watched her mom towel off her newly dyed hair. "Well, well. What do we have here?"

Celia turned from the sink. "What are you talking about?"

"You yelled at me for dying my hair, and you're dying _your_ hair right now," Bex told her mother. "You're such a hypocrite!" She pointed her finger accusingly.

Celia sighed with annoyance. "Stop being dramatic, Rebecca. I'm just covering the grays. And I don't need your permission to do so, because I'm an adult, and you're a child."

Bex watched her mother thoughtfully. She'd never really noticed that many grays in Celia's sleek black hair; honestly, her mother's hair had looked the same throughout her whole life. But she knew her mother was more than a little vain, and afraid of getting older. It was kind of sad, in a way. She decided to let up a little. "I'm sorry, mom."

Celia gave her a quick nod as she dabbed some concealer under her eyes. "Mrs. Choi called this morning. She needs you to babysit Brittany Friday night."

"Friday?" Bex cried, her eyes widening. "I can't!" She and Bowie had plans that night. But she quickly shut her mouth. She couldn't very well tell her mother she had a date with her secret boyfriend.

"What do you have to do that's so important?" Celia asked her suspiciously.

"Nothing, I guess," Bex sighed, feeling that her mom could see into her very soul and sense any guilt she might be hiding. "I can do it."

"Good, because I already told her you would be there," her mom told her. "I'd rather you do something constructive with your time, instead of sitting around watching cartoons all night. Babysitting will teach you responsibility."

"You're absolutely right, mom," Bex said. Brittany was a little monster, but even Bex realized she had a good thing going with her babysitting job. Might as well get _paid_ to watch cartoons and eat the snacks the Choi's always had in their cupboard. She was sorry she wouldn't get to go out with Bowie, though.

"I have to get to school," she said. She hurried off, grabbing a small shopping bag on her way out.

* * *

"Got a present for you!" Bex chirped, meeting Bowie at his locker as soon as she arrived at school.

"A present?" Bowie smiled, turning to her. "What's the occasion?" He shoved his books in his locker and turned to her, giving her his full attention.

"Just because," she said. "I was thinking of you yesterday, and I wanted to get you something." She'd bought his gift at a new little shop on Main Street the day before, The Fringe. She bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet. "Close your eyes."

Bowie's eyes closed, his long lashes fanning out. Bex was about to put her gift in his hand when she was one eye flutter open. "No peeking!"

He chuckled, closing his eyes tighter.

"Okay," she said. "Hold out your hands and say... cowabunga!"

 _"Cowabunga?"_ Bowie scrunched up his nose as Bex laid a puka shell necklace in his open palms. He opened his eyes and smiled, studying the necklace. "This made you think of me?"

"Yeah!" she said. "It'll look hot on you! Like a surfer dude."

"I didn't know you liked surfer dudes," he winked, fingering the smooth white shells.

"You don't like it, do you?" Bex frowned. "You don't have to wear it if you don't want to."

Bowie's face brightened. "Are you kidding? It's totally tubular," he said in a fake California accent. "I love it, Bex. Put it on me?"

She took the necklace and fastened it around his neck. Then, she stepped back, enjoying the effect. "There. I knew it would look awesome on you."

"I'm glad you think so," he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her nose. "Because I'm never taking it off."

Bex craned her neck to kiss him on the lips.

"Thanks for thinking of me," he told her. He gave her a tight hug. "Hey, do you have anything important going on today?" he asked, once they parted.

"No, I guess not. Why?" She looked up, into his eyes. They were sparkling with mischief.

"I'm planning to leave school a little early today," he said quietly, so only she could hear. "I was practicing with the band pretty late last night, and I didn't have a chance to study for my math test. I was thinking if you're up for a little adventure... you could play hooky with me?"

She narrowed her eyes, studying him carefully. "And how might we do that? Not that I'm not interested, because I am."

"It's easy," he said. "Meet me before lunch, and just follow my lead."

Bex's stomach fluttered a little with excitement. She'd cut class many times over the years, but those times were spent hiding out in the girls' bathroom or the library. She'd never actually left the premises.

"All I want to do is spend the whole day with you," he told her. "Maybe you could show me around town?"

Her eager smile brightened. "Bowie, you had me at adventure."

Just as Bowie had said, sneaking out of school was surprisingly easy. Soon, they were walking down Main Street.

"It's like we have the whole town to ourselves," Bex observed. "There were few people on the streets, and no one paid them much attention. As long as they didn't draw attention to themselves, or run into anyone they knew, they could just relax and enjoy the afternoon.

Bex felt light and cheerful as they passed familiar shops and restaurants, hand in hand. There was something exciting about being away from school; a sense of danger, despite being perfectly safe, like watching a horror movie or riding a roller coaster.

"What do you want to do first?" Bowie asked her. "You're the native Shadysidean."

Bex looked around. Despite being totally free, they were still limited by Shadyside, itself. There wasn't a lot to do in the town at eleven-thirty am on a Wednesday. "Beats me." Her stomach growled loudly. All she'd eaten for breakfast was a bowl of soggy muesli, most of which, she'd dumped down the sink when her mom wasn't looking.

"Sounds like we're getting lunch first," Bowie teased. "What's a good place around here?"

"The pizza place is good," she told him. Her stomach growled again, and her mouth watered at the thought.

"Pizza it is, then," he agreed. "Lead the way."

They walked the short walk to the restaurant. The pizzeria was dimly lit, with cozy red booths, and smelled like heaven. Bex didn't get to go out to eat very often, so this in itself was exciting. Her mother was a health nut, and refused to feed her family junk. Bex savored every chance she had to eat food that didn't contain tofu or beansprouts.

She and Bowie chose a booth in the corner, away from the door, in case anyone they knew should walk by. While they waited for their waitress to take their order, Bowie reached across the table and took her hand, stroking it softly with his thumb. Bex looked over the menu, occasionally glancing over her shoulder.

"You okay?" Bowie asked, once their food was ordered and brought to them. "You seem kind of nervous."

"Maybe a little," she shrugged. "I've never done this before."

"Are you sorry you came?" he asked her, looking a little bewildered.

She shook her head, managing to smile. "No way. There's nowhere I'd rather be than right here with y-." Her eyes widened as she heard a familiar voice near the front of the restaurant. She could feel the color drain from her face, as she sneaked a peek behind her. _"Oh no."_

"What is it?" Bowie asked, following her gaze. "Who is that?"

"It's my _dad_ ," she hissed. "My dad is _here_." Panic rose in her chest. "He can't see me."

"Get under the table," Bowie said. "Hurry."

She slid down the booth and under the checkered tablecloth. She huddled on the floor, near Bowie's feet. Her heart sounded like a stampede of horses as her father walked past their table, to the counter, and ordered two slices of meat lover's pizza and a large soda (even though she was in panic mode, she silently applauded him for rebelling against Celia in his own way). She crossed her fingers he would take his lunch out, instead of eating in. And she let out a sigh of relief when he did leave.

"Hey," Bowie finally said, peeking under the tablecloth. "The coast is clear. Come on out."

She crawled out from under the table, still a little on edge. "That was a close one," she breathed. She and Bowie looked at each other from across the table, and they burst into laughter.

* * *

"So, what do you want to do now?" Bowie asked, after they'd eaten and left the restaurant.

Bex shrugged. "I could go for ice cream."

"Ice cream sounds good," he nodded.

"There's a good place down the street," she told him. She pointed down the block to a small shop. Despite still being a little shaken from her close call with her dad, she was still in a good mood. "They make the best vanilla."

"I never took you for a vanilla kind of girl," Bowie said.

She gave him a curious look. "What do you mean?"

"Vanilla's kind of boring," he told her. "And you're definitely _not_ boring."

She laughed. "Do you ever wonder why vanilla flavored things are always white, when vanilla beans are black?"

"I actually never thought about that," he said, scratching his chin. "But wouldn't black ice cream be kind of unappetizing?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she agreed. "But trust me on this, their vanilla is _amazing."_

They got to the ice cream parlor and ordered two vanilla cones. They licked them as they walked down the street.

"Hmm," Bowie frowned.

"What's wrong?" Bex asked. She turned to look at him.

"This tastes funny," he said, staring at his cone and sticking his tongue out.

"Mine tastes fine," she told him, taking another cautious lick. It was cold, rich, and sweet, like always.

"It smells weird too," he said, sniffing it and making a disgusted face.

She stopped, furrowing her brow. "Really? Let me smell it."

Bowie held the cone up to her nose and she sniffed it. The next thing she knew, her nose was covered in ice cream. "Bowie!" she cried. "What the _heck?"_

"Gotcha," he laughed.

He handed her a napkin, and she cleaned her face, giggling. "Is it off?"

"Yeah," he nodded. He frowned. "Wait, you missed a spot."

"Where?" she asked, touching her cheek.

"Right here," he said, dotting her chin with the cone.

 _"Bowie!"_ she gasped through laughter, as melted ice cream dripped down her chin. She lunged for him, but he was too fast. "I'm going to get you for that!" she shouted, trying to catch him.

"Not if I get you first," he teased. He grabbed her in his arms and tickled her.

"Bowie," she laughed. "Stop! I'm gonna pee my pants!" She'd never laughed so hard in her life. Her ribs ached, and she was out of breath. "Truce!"

He stopped tickling her and wrapped her in a hug. "I'm sorry," he winked. "I couldn't resist. You're too easy."

"It's okay," she said, rolling her eyes. "I like that we can tease each other."

He cleaned the ice cream off her chin and gave her a soft kiss.

"Don't get too comfortable though," she reminded him. "Because revenge is imminent."

"Do your worst," he said, leaning in to steal another kiss.

* * *

After getting ice cream, Bex and Bowie went to the mall. It was a relatively safe place to hide out; Celia hated shopping at the mall, and Ham hated shopping in general, so there was little chance of running into her family. They bought tickets to a movie, as well as a popcorn and a soda to share, and found seats in the empty theater. It was the perfect place to lay low; it was such a weird hour that no one was there but them, other than an elderly couple, and it would be dark when the movie started.

That sat toward to middle, and took turns answering the trivia questions on the screen. Bowie cracked her up by throwing popcorn in the air and trying to catch it in his mouth. And she impressed him by actually being _able_ to do it.

Finally, the lights grew dim and the movie started. Bex reached into the popcorn bucket and popped a kernel in her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Bowie pretend to yawn, and discreetly slip his arm around her. "Smooth," she whispered.

"I thought so," he chuckled.

She leaned into his embrace, laying her head on his shoulder, as he leaned down to kiss her.

* * *

When the movie ended, Bex and Bowie left the theater. It was getting dangerously close to three o'clock, when school would let out. "I have to go," she told him. "My parents will kill me if they find out I cut school today. I have to beat them home."

"Okay," he said, reluctantly.

She understood how he felt. It had been a perfect day, from getting pizza, to making out in the movie theater and nearly getting kicked out by the usher. She hated to see it end. She wished she could tuck it all away in her memory box. At least she had her ticket stub to remember it by. And she had a feeling there would plenty more adventures coming her way, with Bowie in her life. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Thanks for an awesome day."

"Any time," he smiled, kissing her again. He had a smudge of her lipstick on his face from their make out session.

She wiped the lipstick away with her thumb. "See you tomorrow?"

He nodded. "I'll meet you at your locker." He pulled her closer, hugging her tight.

"Okay, I've really got to go," she said, once they finally parted. She started to walk away, then paused, and turned back to him. "And Bowie?"

"Yeah?"

She smiled. "Don't think charming me will make me forget about paying you back for that ice cream stunt."

Bowie laughed. "I wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

Bex ran home as fast as she could. She was relieved when she arrived at her house, and neither of her parents' cars were in the driveway. Her plan was simple. All she had to do to protect her secret was check for a phone message from the school office, and delete it before her mother heard it, then forge a note for the nurse for the next day.

She went to the kitchen. The red light on the answering machine was blinking like crazy, signaling a new message. She sat at the counter, and played it.

"This is Jefferson High School calling the parents of Rebecca Mack regarding your daughter's absence..."

Without bothering to listen to the rest of the message, she hit 'Delete.' Then, she went upstairs to practice Celia's signature.

Everything was going smoothly until she heard her parents' cars pull in the driveway, and the door open. Her mother and father's voices echoed loudly from the kitchen.

"Rebecca!" her mother called. "Get down here this instant!"

Bex groaned. They knew. But _how_ did they know? She slid off her desk chair and dragged herself down the stairs.

Celia stood in the kitchen, her arms crossed over her chest. Ham stood beside her, looking disappointed.

"What's going on?" she asked, trying to seem nonchalant, hoping maybe her parents were angry about something else she'd done.

"That's what we'd like to know," her mother said. "Care to explain why you weren't in school today?"

"I _was_ in school today!" Bex lied, grasping to the hope that they still didn't know, and were only bluffing. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"We know you weren't," Ham sighed. "The school called."

Bex glanced back at the answering machine.

"You erased their message," Celia surmised with a sigh. She turned to her husband. "She erased the school's message, Ham!"

 _"Bex!"_ Ham scolded. "Why would you do that?"

"I don't know," she said quietly.

"Luckily, the school also has my cell phone number," Celia told her, with a satisfied look on her face. "And they called me at work."

Bex looked down at her feet. What could she say? There was no way to get out of it.

"We're very disappointed in you, Bex," Ham sighed. "You know better than to do something like this."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, her eyes burning. She was dangerously close to crying.

"You're only sorry you got caught," Celia told her, which wasn't untrue. "I don't know what's the matter with you lately, but you're worse than you've ever been. If this attitude of yours is a phase, I wish you'd hurry up and grow out of it!"

"I _said_ I was sorry!" Bex said, raising her voice a little louder than she meant to. "Geez, get off my case!"

"You're grounded," her mother told her. "Two weeks."

Bex shrugged. "Whatever."

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?"

She shrugged again. "Who cares if I'm grounded? What difference does it make? I already can't go anywhere or do anything, anyway. What are you going to do to me, withhold food and water? Deprive me of oxygen?"

"You watch that smart mouth, young lady!" Ham scolded, pointing his finger at her. Her dad hardly ever yelled at her, and it stung.

"Go to your room, and think about what you've done," Celia told her in a no-nonsense voice. "You aren't welcome downstairs until you can act like a member of this family."

"Why said I want to be a member of this family?" she snapped. "And I was going to my room anyway!

She ran up the stairs and slammed the door as hard as she could. Tears stung her eyes as she dug through her desk drawer and pulled out a can of Pringles. She ate them in bed, still fuming. The last thing she wanted was another fight with her parents, but that seemed to be unavoidable. No matter what she did, she always managed to screw up. But if she could go back and do it again, she would. She and Bowie had had a great day together, and she wouldn't trade it for anything, not matter what punishment her parents threw at her. Because, the truth was, she was falling in love with him.


	5. Chapter 5 Adventures in Babysitting

Chapter 5. Adventures in Babysitting

"Hey, honey."

Bex nodded to her dad, as she sat down at the table for breakfast the next day. "Hey." She hadn't slept well the night before, still stressed about her fight with her parents. She felt terrible that she upset her dad, especially, since he was so hard to make mad. Believe it or not, she didn't set out to _deliberately_ irritate her parents. But in the process of trying to be herself, it just kind of happened.

Ham set a plate of toast on the table, and Bex took a slice and spread some jam on it. "Where's mom?" she asked, tentatively.

"She went to work early. She has to show a house at ten-thirty," her dad explained, sitting down across from her.

"Listen-" they both said in unison, as their eyes met. The laughed, breaking the tension in the room.

"You go first, dad," Bex said.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he told her, reaching out to pat her hand. "I didn't mean to get so angry with you. I just want you to take your education seriously. You're a smart girl, Bex. There's so much you can do if you apply yourself. I don't want you to waste your potential."

"I'm sorry too," she told him. "And not just because I got caught."

He smiled, friendly crinkles forming around his blue eyes. "So, are we still pals?"

"Of course," Bex nodded.

"You're still grounded though," he reminded her. "You know that, right?"

"I know," she said, rolling her eyes teasingly.

"I love you, kid," he told her, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Even when you drive me crazy."

"I love you too, dad," she replied, relieved that their fight was apparently over, even if she did still have Celia to deal with. Her dad never stayed mad long.

"Hurry up and finish your breakfast," he said. "I'll give you a ride to school."

* * *

Bowie was waiting for Bex at his locker as always. She rushed to meet him, wrapping her arms around his neck. And happily, she noticed he was still wearing the necklace she gave him. "Hey," she smiled.

"Hey." He kissed her softly, caressing her back with his big hands. "So, what happened after you got home yesterday? Did you get away with it?"

Bex sighed, recalling her fight with her parents. "I got caught. The stupid school called my mom's cell. Grounded for two weeks."

Bowie groaned, his eyes clouding with something like regret. "Bex, I'm so sorry. I never meant for that to happen."

"It's fine," she shrugged. "If I hadn't skipped school, I would have done something else to get grounded, anyway."

"You sure you're not mad?" he asked skeptically, searching her face.

"No way," she smiled, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "Yesterday was so much fun. I loved every minute of it."

Bowie's face softened. "So did I."

"How about you?" she asked. "Did you get away with it?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "My parents don't have cell phones, and even if they did, they get that sometimes you need to take a mental health day."

"What kind of world do you live in?" Bex asked, half-jokingly. Her mother would suggest Bex take a "mental health day" from school when hell became an ice rink. She was only allowed to miss school when she was sick enough to warrant a doctor's visit.

"My parents are pretty easygoing," he told her, nonchalantly. "They believe in letting me make my own choices, so I'll learn from my mistakes. Or something like that."

"Can they adopt me?" she asked, teasingly.

"That would be pretty awkward if they did, considering we're dating," he laughed. "But hey, would you want to meet them sometime? My mom is dying to have you over for dinner. After you're done being grounded, I mean."

"I guess so," Bex said. "Yeah. That would be great." She was very curious about Bowie's family. From what he'd told her about them, they sounded so different from her own family.

"Cool," he smiled. "I'll let my mom know." He paused. "Since you're grounded, I guess our date is off for tomorrow night?"

"Yeah," she frowned. "But I couldn't have gone anyway. I have to babysit for the Chois.'" Her mom had at least told her she could keep her babysitting job while she was grounded, since she'd already committed to it.

"Sweet," Bowie nodded. "Who are the Chois'?"

"They live down the street from me," she explained. "I babysit their five-year-old daughter, Brittany."

"That sounds fun," he said. "Do you like babysitting?"

"Sometimes," she said, as they started toward homeroom. "Brittany is kind of spoiled and bratty, so it depends on what kind of mood she's in."

She shrugged. "But it pays for my cell phone bill and motorcycle fund, so it's cool." She kept her savings in a disconnected heat vent in the back of her closet. Every time she babysat, she put part of her pay away, until she could save enough to buy a used motorcycle.

"Well, do you want some company?" he asked her. "Maybe I could come hang out?"

Bex chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I don't know, Bowie. I want to see you, but I don't know how Brittany's parents would feel about it." She paused. "Although, Brittany _does_ have to be in bed by eight..."

* * *

Friday night, Bex walked up the Chois' front steps and rang the bell. Mrs. Choi answered, her glossy hair pulled back in an up-do, dressed in a sparkly black dress. "Rebecca!" she smiled. "You're just in time. Come on in."

"Hi, Mrs. Choi," Bex waved. "You look really nice."

"Thank you," she said, giving a little twirl. "We're heading to Nick's sister's engagement party. Children aren't welcome, unfortunately, so we were in a bind. You're a lifesaver."

"I'm happy to do it," she smiled. "So, where's Brittany?"

"She's in the kitchen having dinner," Mrs. Choi said. "She's allowed to have two cookies for dessert if she finishes her meal." She turned to the kitchen doorway. "Brittany, Bex is here. Mommy and Daddy are leaving now. Come kiss us goodbye."

Brittany came from the kitchen, looking angelic as always, her wispy black hair in pigtails. Bex knew her sweet demeanor would probably change the minute her parents left. "Hi, Bex," she chirped.

"Hi, Brittany," Bex waved, trying to look cheerful.

Brittany hugged and kissed her parents, becoming a little weepy as they said goodbye. "I want to go to the party," she sniffled, preparing for a tantrum.

"I know, baby," Mrs. Choi chirped. "But you're gonna have a nice time with Bex. And Mommy will bring you home a piece of cake."

"Chocolate?" she asked through her tears.

"Of course, sweetheart," her mother nodded. She gave her daughter one last hug, and then she and her husband left.

Brittany stood there, rubbing her eyes. Bex watched her, unsure of what to say. "Brittany, why don't we go into the kitchen? You can finish your dinner, and then we can read a story or something."

"I don't wanna hear no stupid story," Brittany sulked.

"Fine, no story," Bex sighed. "But you have to eat your dinner."

"I don't wanna eat my dinner," Brittany said, crossing her arms over her chest. She could be the most stubborn little girl when she wanted to be.

Bex braced herself for a long night. At least she had Bowie to look forward to. She was counting down the hours until her could come over. "But I smell chicken nuggets!" she told her with exaggerated cheerfulness. "You love chicken nuggets!"

"Don't care." The little girl dug her slippered heels into the rug.

"Come on, Brittany," Bex pleaded. "Your mom said you can have cookies if you eat. You want cookies, don't you?"

Brittany gave her an annoyed look, but reluctantly followed her into the kitchen, and sat at the table.

Brittany sat down at the table, and stared down at her plate. She was fussy, and never ate very much. Her plate contained four dinosaur-shaped nuggets, a spoonful of macaroni and cheese, and a spoonful of broccoli. "That looks yummy," Bex said, hoping to encourage her.

"I don't like broccoli," Brittany said flatly, studying her plate. "It smells stinky."

"Just try it!" Bex urged. She didn't love broccoli either, but she couldn't tell Brittany that. "You might like it!"

"No I won't," the little girl argued. "I don't wanna eat it, and you can't make me."

"You're right," she said. "I _can't_ make you. But I _can_ eat cookies in front of you. Which I'll do, if you don't finish your supper."

"You can't do that!" Brittany cried angrily. Her little face turned red. "It's _my_ house."

"Your mom told me cookies are only for people who finish their dinner," Bex told her. " _I_ finished _mine_. But you can't have any unless you finish your food." She sat quietly for a moment, watching Brittany pout. "Come on, Brit. Broccoli is good for you. It will help you grow up big and strong."

"I don't wanna be big and strong," she spat out. She pushed her plate away.

Bex sighed, and stood up. She went to the pantry, and took out the box of chocolate chip cookies. She put two on a napkin, and closed the box. "There. Dessert for one."

"You're _mean!"_ Brittany shouted. "You're not my friend no more!" She was on the verge of tears.

"I'm just trying to follow your mom's rules," Bex told her, feeling a little guilty for teasing Brittany. "I'll give you some cookies if you eat."

Brittany studied her plate for a minute, then fixed her eyes on the cookies on Bex's napkin. For a minute, Bex thought maybe she was about to give in. But the little girl stood firm, pouting.

"Come on," she pleaded, trying to sound in charge. "Enough playing around." She was already starting to get a headache. But she took a deep breath, visualizing her motorcycle, and that kept her from losing her patience.

Brittany responded by sticking her tongue out at her.

"You're not leaving the table until you finish your dinner," Bex said, trying to think of what her mother would say in the same situation.

"But mommy said I can watch a movie later!"

"Sorry," Bex shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you."

Brittany's little face turned red with anger. She sucked in her breath, holding it.

"Oh no, _not_ this again," Bex said firmly. "Do you really think I'm still dumb enough to fall for that?" When Brittany was four, she'd tried the breath-holding trick for the first time on Bex. Panicked, Bex had called an ambulance. Now she knew better. But still, as Brittany's face and scalp turned scarlet and she still refused to exhale, Bex started to worry that the little girl would faint. And yet the child showed no sign of giving up.

"Fine!" she relented, after several long moments had passed. She took some cookies out of the box, and set them in front of Brittany. "Here."

Brittany let out her breath, a satisfied look on her face. "Thanks!"

Bex rolled her eyes. She put the unfinished dinner down the garbage disposal and poured Brittany a glass of juice. At least she'd get a little nutrition out of that. "After you're done, I'll put your movie on for you."

Brittany picked up her juice glass and cookies and started toward the living room.

"Hey, where are you going?" Bex asked, stopping her.

"The living room," the girl told her, matter-of-factly.

"No way," Bex replied, glancing into the other room, at the Chois' cream-colored rug and couch. "You're not eating in there. You'll make a mess."

"Will not!" Brittany cried. "Mommy lets me."

Bex searched her eyes. "Are you lying to me?" Sometimes the little girl reminded her so much of herself at that age that it was scary. At those times, she felt sympathy for her mother.

"No."

She sighed, not wanting to battle with the five-year-old any longer. "If I let you eat in there, you have to promise me you'll be really, really careful."

"I'll be careful," she promised.

* * *

The Chois had a big screen TV with like a thousand channels and a state of the art DVD player. Unfortunately, that was wasted on Brittany, who watched the same few animated princess movies over and over. Bex popped in a DVD, and settled on the couch. Brittany sat at her child-sized coloring table, happily eating her cookies, as the familiar theme to her favorite movie began.

Bex had seen this movie a dozen times; it was one she had watched over and over as a child, and she could practically quote all the lines. She zoned out, settling into a daydream about Bowie, while Brittany was glued to the screen. But she was pulled out of her trance when Brittany turned to her.

"Oops," the little girl said, sheepishly. Her mouth was ringed with red juice. A red stain was seeping into the carpet, next to an empty glass.

Bex groaned. _"Brittany!_ You promised you'd be careful. Look at this mess!"

"It was an accident!" she said. "I didn't mean to." She sniffled, as tears filled her eyes.

"Don't cry about it," Bex said, softening. "I"ll try to clean it up." She went to the kitchen and got some damp paper towels. She got down on her hands and knees, and began to soak up the stain, hoping it wouldn't be too noticeable. As she was pressing the soggy, pink mess of paper towels into the carpet, the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock. It was seven forty-five.

"What now?" she sighed. "I'll be right back." She went to the door and opened it to see Bowie standing there.

"Hey, Bex." He smiled his dimpled smile, looking as cute as ever.

"Bowie?" She furrowed her brow. "What are you doing here so early?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I couldn't wait to see you. I hope you don't mind."

She glanced back nervously. "Well, Brittany isn't in bed yet."

"I can come back later if you want..." he said wistfully.

"No, don't go," she told him. "Hold on. Stay here. I'll be right back."

She closed the door and went back to the living room. "Okay, kiddo. It's time for bed."

"No it's not," Brittany said, without breaking her gaze at the TV screen.

"Yes it is," Bex insisted. How would Brittany even know if it was eight or not? She was precocious, but she couldn't tell time.

"I'm not sleepy," Brittany protested. "And mommy said I can stay up late!" she added as an afterthought.

"I _know_ she didn't say that," Bex said. The Chois were only really strict about one rule, and that was their daughter's bedtime. "Besides, I'm in charge right now, and I say it's time for bed. Go put on your PJ's. I'll be right up to tuck you in." She shut the TV off.

 _"Hey!"_ Brittany howled. But she did get up and trudge up the stairs to her room, since her movie had been shut off.

Once she was gone, Bex went to the door, holding her finger to her lips. "Come in, but be quiet," she told Bowie. "I'll be right back."

She hurried upstairs to help Brittany, and after plenty of resistance, she got the little girl into bed. she felt a little bit bad about tricking her. But not enough to turn Bowie away.

* * *

"Did you get her to go to bed?" Bowie asked, when she returned to the living room.

"Yeah," Bex nodded. "But it wasn't easy." She looked down at the pink stain on the once-pristine rug. "I have to clean this mess up before we can hang out. I'm sorry." She got down on her knees and began blotting at the stain again, but it only seemed to spread. And it wasn't even in a spot where she could slide a piece of furniture over it or something. Brittany's mom would definitely notice.

"You won't get the stain out that way," Bowie told her. "Do they have any club soda?"

"I don't know," Bex admitted. "Let me check." She searched the pantry and the fridge. "I don't see any."

Bowie spotted a liquor cabinet in the corner of the dining room, just off the kitchen. "Maybe they keep some in there?"

She followed his gaze. "Maybe. But it's locked."

"I could pick the lock if you have a bobby pin?" he suggested. "Or a paperclip?"

Bex paused. "I don't know, Bowie. I don't think we should mess with that." The Chois trusted her. They were the few people who treated her like an adult. She didn't want to screw that up.

"We aren't going to steal their booze," he reminded her. "But you have to treat the stain before it sets too long."

"Hold on," she sighed. She searched through the kitchen junk drawer and found a bobby pin, and handed it to Bowie.

With the pin in hand, he crouched down in front of the cabinet and began to work on the lock. "Voila!" he announced after a few minutes. He opened the cabinet door proudly. Then, he produced a bottle of club soda.

Bex watched as he cracked the seal on the bottle lid. "Now, let's get this stain out," he told her. "I just need a dishcloth or some paper towels."

"I'll get them." She grabbed the roll as they passed through the kitchen and she followed him back to the living room.

Bowie poured some club soda on the stain and began blotting it, using a clean paper towel each time. Before Bex's eyes, the stain shrunk, becoming lighter and lighter, until it disappeared completely. "Bowie, you're amazing!" she breathed, giving him a hug. "Thank you so much!"

"It was really no big deal," he shrugged, smiling.

"How do you know how to pick locks and get stains out of carpets?" she asked him. She narrowed her eyes with mock suspicion. "Are you secretly a serial killer?"

Bowie laughed. "Nooo... like I said, I'm a fountain of useless knowledge."

"Well, your knowledge wasn't so useless today," she said. "It saved me." She took the part-empty bottle from him. "Let me just put this away, and then we can watch TV or something."

* * *

Bex put the club soda bottle away and locked the cabinet back up securely. Then she made popcorn, and got some sodas out of the fridge for herself and Bowie. She settled on the couch, next to them. He put his arm around her as she turned the TV on and began to flip through the channels.

"Stop!" Bowie cried. "Turn back. I think I saw _Shh!"_

Bex paused, her eyes widening. "You like _Shh!_ too?" She'd never met anyone else who liked, or had even _seen_ the obscure horror movie before.

"It's only like my favorite horror movie ever!" he told her. "When the evil librarian kills those boys who were looking up dirty words in the dictionary... that's my favorite part!"

"Mine too!" she exclaimed, laughing. "It's classic!" She flipped back and found the movie, and sat back to watch, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

"If you get scared, you can hold my hand," Bowie whispered with a wink.

"Same to you," she teased back, shutting off the lamp so the only light in the room was the glow of the TV.

They quickly became engrossed in the movie, when Brittany's loud voice rang out from the stairwell. _"Hey!"_

Bex jumped, spilling some popcorn on the floor. "Brittany! You scared the heck out of me! What are you doing out of bed?" She turned the light back on and shut the TV off.

Brittany stomped into the living room. "You're not supposed to have a boy here. I'm telling my mommy and daddy!"

Bex stood up hurriedly. "Brittany, don't. It's okay. See, Bowie is a babysitter too."

"Is not!" Brittany snapped. "Babysitters are _girls."_

"Um, try telling that to Logan Bruno," Bex retorted, pulling the name of the only male babysitter she knew of out of thin air.

"Who's that?" Brittany gave her a confused look.

"A really famous boy babysitter," Bex told her. "Just like Bowie. In fact, Bowie taught me everything I know about babysitting." She turned to her boyfriend. "Right Bowie?"

"Right," he nodded, trying to suppress his laughter. "I'm an awesome babysitter."

"But you don't have to tell your mommy and daddy he's here," Bex said calmly. "Because if they knew there's a better babysitter out there than me, they might hire him instead. And then I won't get to sit for you anymore."

"I don't believe you." Brittany narrowed her eyes suspiciously, her hands on her little hips.

"Want some popcorn?" Bex asked, with a sudden flash of inspiration. "If you promise not to tell your parents he's here, you can have some. And I'll let you stay up an extra half an hour. But only if you're a good girl," she added.

"I'll be good," Brittany finally sighed, unable to resist the pull of a later bedtime.

"That's my girl!" Bex said. She sat Brittany down between herself and Bowie. Bowie looked down at the little girl, then gave Bex an unsure look.

"Do you know any jokes?" Brittany asked him.

"Not really," Bowie replied. "Sorry."

"What kind of babysitter are you?" Brittany demanded.

"She likes knock-knock jokes," Bex explained. "I make them up for her sometimes." The jokes didn't even have to be good. The sillier they were, the bigger reaction they got. She turned to Brittany, and tapped lightly on her head. "Knock-knock?"

"Who's there?" Brittany giggled.

"Ash."

"Ash who?"

"Bless you!" Bex winked.

Brittany burst into a fit of laughter, throwing her head back as if she'd just heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Just try telling one," Bex encouraged Bowie.

"I don't know any," he told her, uneasily playing with the shell necklace around his neck.

With a sigh, Bex hopped up and whispered one in his ear.

"Alright," said Bowie, giving in. "Knock-knock."

"You have to knock on my head!" Brittany told him. "That's how Bex does it."

"Knock-knock," Bowie said, very, very lightly touching his balled fist to Brittany's head.

"Who's there?"

"Radio."

"Radio who?" she asked.

"Radio or not... here I come!" he replied with a forced smile.

Brittany giggled happily. "He's funny!"

Bex gave Bowie's arm a squeeze. "I know he is! I told you he's a great babysitter."

"Tell me another one," she pleaded.

"I can't," he apologized. "I don't know any more."

 _"Please,"_ Brittany whined. She got on her knees and clung to Bowie, shaking him with her little hands. Bowie's body stiffened uncomfortably, and he tried to move away from her. "I don't know any," he said again, firmer this time. "I'm sorry."

Sensing his discomfort, Bex scooped Brittany up, tickling her. "I'll tell you some," she said, holding her in her lap.

"Who's Logan Bruno?" Bowie whispered to her, once Brittany was out of his hair.

"He's from _The Babysitters Club_ books," she whispered back.

* * *

After approximately a thousand knock-knock jokes and stories, Bex finally got Brittany to go to bed for the second time. Once she was sure the little girl was settled into bed for the night, she went back downstairs to rejoin Bowie.

"Hey," he said, as she sat down next to him on the couch, draping his arm around her shoulders. "Did you get her settled?"

"Yup," Bex said. "At last."

"Thanks goodness," he said, rubbing his temples. "I hope her parents pay you well."

"Not a fan of kids?" Bex asked. "I could tell you were kind of out of your element with her."

"Not really," he admitted. "I haven't really been around them much. I never realized how loud and obnoxious they can be." He gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "I'm sorry you had to put up with her. I know she can be a handful. I appreciate you helping me, anyway." She wasn't sure how to feel. Brittany drove her crazy sometimes, but they had fun together, too. She really cared about that little monster.

"I'd put up with anything to spend time with you," he told her, pulling her closer.

Bex snuggled in the crook of his arm, shaking off any uncertainty.

"You want to catch the rest of the movie?" he asked.

"Nah," Bex said. "It's probably ending, and I don't want to risk waking Brittany up again."

"So what do you want to do?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "I don't know."

Their eyes locked, and Bex felt herself blush. Bowie took her in his arms and kissed her. She met his kisses, stroking the back of his head as he nuzzled her. He moved her parallel to him, kissing and caressing her as they lay back on the couch.

Their kisses grew in intensity, as Bex moved her hand to the back of his neck. His skin was hot to the touch, and felt strange and bumpy. She broke their bond for a moment. "What's up with your neck?"

Bowie reached up to rub under the necklace. "I don't know. Some kind of rash."

"What's it from?" she frowned. "Is it the necklace?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Maybe." He itched his neck again.

"Bowie, you don't have to wear it if it's bothering you," she told him. "Honest. It's fine."

He stroked the shells protectively. "I don't want to take it off. It was a gift from you."

"But it looks like you're allergic to it or something," she pointed out.

"I'll be okay," he assured her. "Don't worry about it." He embraced her, drawing her in for another kiss.

They continued to make out, passionately, when headlights filled the dimly lit living room. Bex shot up. "Brittany's parents are home!" She stood up. "You have to get out of here. Now!"

Bowie rose to his feet, and Bex pushed him toward the back door. "Bye," she said hurriedly, pecking him on the lips one last time. "Talk to you tomorrow!"

He gave her a small wave. "See ya." And he slipped out the back door just as the front door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Choi walked in.


	6. Chapter 6 Cookie and the Universe

Chapter 6. Cookie and The Universe

"Are you okay, Bex?" Bowie asked with a concerned frown. "You look so nervous."

Bex rang her hands together. "Just a little." She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs.

Bowie reached out to touch her shoulder. "What's got you worried?" He searched her eyes carefully. "Are you really that scared to meet my parents?"

"What if they don't like me?" she sighed. She didn't consider herself the kind of girl moms would like their sons to bring home. And as she silently assessed herself, she couldn't help but worry that she was dressed all wrong, or she was wearing too much makeup, or maybe the red streaks in her hair were too much. She was sure Bowie's mom would take one look at her and ask her to leave.

"Bex," Bowie laughed. "Loosen up! They'll _love_ you. Especially my mom. She loves everyone."

She looked up at him. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," he promised, squeezing her hand. "How could anyone not love this face?" He pinched her cheek. "You'll be fine." He planted a kiss on her forehead. "Should we go in?"

"I guess," she said, shaking off her nerves. The night had been hard enough to orchestrate, that she knew she couldn't just back out. Her grounding had finally ended, but she still had to lie to her parents and say that she was having dinner at Emily's house- and convince Emily to cover for her. All she could do was hold her head up, and act as if meeting Bowie's parents were no big deal.

Bowie unlocked the front door of his house, a small yellow house with an attached garage, and let her in. The first thing to hit Bex was the delicious smell of dinner cooking. Her stomach growled. Bowie had told her that his mother cooked well enough to run a restaurant. It seemed that he wasn't exaggerating.

"Mom?" Bowie called. "We're here!"

"I'll be right there, sweetie!" a voice called back. And the woman who went with the voice emerged from the kitchen, smiling broadly. She was heavy-set, with blond hair and glasses, and she was wearing a frilly apron.

"Bex," said Bowie. "This is my mom. Mom, this is the beautiful Rebecca Mack." He placed his hand on her shoulders proudly.

Bowie's mom's face lit up. "So you're the famous Rebecca! Such a pretty name. You're all Steven talks about!"

"Who's Steven?" Bex asked, confused.

Bowie and his mother looked at each other and laughed. "Oh, that's Bowie's first name," his mom explained. "He prefers to go by his middle name though. He won't let anyone call him that but his father and I."

"You never told me that!" Bex exclaimed, punching Bowie playfully in the arm.

He shrugged. "Bowie just sounds cooler, _Rebecca."_

"I get it," she winked.

"Come here, sweetheart," Mrs. Quinn said, holding out her arms. "I'm a hugger." She took Bex in her arms and gave her the tightest hug she'd ever had, and to her surprise, a kiss on the cheek. It was a real 'mom' hug; the kind her own mother never gave her.

"You're the first girl Steven has ever brought home," she told her. "And look at you! You're just so _cute!"_ She pinched Bex's cheek the exact same way Bowie had earlier.

Bex blushed. "Thank you for having me, Mrs. Quinn. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Call me Cookie, honey," Bowie's mom said. "Everyone does. You make yourself at home. Stevie will show you around, and dinner's in half an hour." A timer dinged in the kitchen. "Oh! Excuse me, kids." She hurried off.

Bex turned to Bowie. "Lead the way, Stevie"

Bowie sighed, laughing. "You want to see my room?"

"Am I allowed in there?" Boys weren't allowed in her room at home. they weren't even allowed in the _house_ for that matter.

He gave her a puzzled look. "Yeah, of course. Come on."

He led her to the garage, and up a flight of stairs. "Here we are," he said, when they reached the top. "Casa Bowie."

Bex looked around. Bowie's room wasn't so much a _room_ as a small apartment, really. It was huge, situated over the garage, with sloping ceilings. The walls were decorated with old license plates, street signs, and band posters. "Wow," she breathed. "This is your _room?"_

"What'cha think?"

"It's awesome," she breathed. "Your parents really let you have a room so far from them?"

He shrugged. "Well, it's soundproof, so it won't bother them when I play my guitar."

Bex couldn't imagine having that kind of freedom, of not being under constant surveillance. Bowie could do whatever he wanted. He didn't even have to enter the main house to come and go; he could leave through the garage. And she bet Cookie never rummaged through his personal belongings while he was gone, which she _knew_ Celia did. Did other kids really live like this?

She walked around the room, taking everything in. Bowie's room was like him; quirky and unexpected, but somehow familiar. She paused at a bookshelf stuffed with comic books, records, and colorful pillar candles in whimsical, dripping shapes. "There's are so cool," she said, touching one with her fingertips.

Bowie came up behind her. "Yeah, I collect them. I know it's nerdy," he apologized.

"It's not," she said. "I like them." That he collected candles endeared him to her even more. It was just so sweet.

He took a red and white candle from the shelf. "Since red is your favorite color, I want you to have this one."

"Are you sure?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Yeah. I can't let you leave empty-handed," he winked.

"Thanks!" she smiled. She sniffed the candle. It smelled like Christmas. "Apple Cinnamon." She looked up at Bowie. "Your mom is so sweet."

He chuckled. "Yeah. She loves hard. Don't expect to leave without at least three more hugs and kisses and a bag of cookies."

"It's nice," Bex told him, sincerely. "I wish my mom was more like that." She bet Bowie never felt unloved in his home; the place felt so full of love, it was bursting at the seams. So different from her own home.

"You talk about your dad, but you never talk much about your mom," he said. "What is she like?"

Bex shrugged. "She's… reserved, I guess." She looked down at her candle. "She's serious, and tidy, and kind of old-fashioned. Her parents were immigrants, so hard work and a good education are really important to her."

"Do you think I can meet your parents soon?" Bowie asked her. "Since you're meeting mine tonight?"

"Maybe," Bex said, shifting her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She focused on the swirling colors of her candle. "We'll see."

"Well, I'm sure they're great, because they raised you," he told her. "And you're amazing." He seemed to sense her discomfort then. "You want to listen to some music?"

"Sure," she nodded, glad the subject had been changed.

He went to his record collection, and flipped through a stack of albums until he selected the one he wanted. He set the vinyl record on an old record player and lay the needle on it. Bex had never actually seen a record player in person, so that was pretty cool. Soon, Elvis Presley's voice filled the room, grainy and distant sounding.

Bowie plopped down on his bed. "Come here." He patted the comforter.

Bex stretched out beside him, and he drew her close to his side. He stroked her back gently with his fingertips.

"So," she said. "Am I really all you talk about?" She glanced up at him, giving him a smile, and tickled his side.

Bowie laughed. "Of course you are. Is there a better subject?"

"You're sweet," she said, resting her cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. As she lay there, the song switched to one she recognized, _Can't Help Falling in Love_. She sang along in her head. _'Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can't help falling in love with you.'_

Bowie hummed the tune softly. "This should be our song," he told her, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. He kissed the side of her head, his warm lips lingering against her hairline. And then their lips met, as if they were magnets, drawn to each other.

Bowie kissed her deeply, more passionately than he'd ever kissed her before. He suckled her lower lip, weaving his fingers through her hair. Bex's heart sped up as she returned his kisses, caressing the back of his neck. A delicious tingle went down her spine as she felt him run his hand down the side of her body, resting on her butt and squeezing. Her hand slipped under his shirt, feeling the ripple of his toned chest and stomach.

They were interrupted by a knock on the bedroom door. They pulled apart, regrettably, and Bowie hurried to answer it. Bex quickly sat up and smoothed her hair.

"Sorry to bother you kids," Cookie said from the doorway. "Just wanted to let you know dinner's ready."

"Thanks, mom," Bowie said. "We'll be right down."

* * *

When they reached the kitchen, Bex was greeted by the warmth of a real, home-cooked dinner. "Cookie, it smells delicious in here," she said, inhaling deeply. Her mouth watered.

Cookie turned from the stove. "Thank you, baby," she smiled. "I hope you like meatloaf."

"'ll eat anything," Bex told her.

"Mom's an awesome cook," Bowie beamed, patting Cookie on the shoulder.

"Well, my boys like to eat, and I like to make them happy," his mother said.

"Can I help you with anything?" Bex asked, remembering her manners.

"No, no, sweetheart, you're the guest," Cookie said, shooing her to the table. "You have a seat."

Bowie's dad walked in then, apparently just home from work at his garage in town. He was a big, tall man, who must have resembled Bowie very much when he was young. "Well, hello," he said, smiling a big, friendly smile. "You must be Rebecca." He held his hand out to shake hers, but retracted it, realizing it was covered in grease. "Sorry about that," he apologized, laughing, and went to the sink to wash his hands.

"Let's try that again," he said, once his hands were clean. He took Bex's small hand in his large, weathered one, and shook it. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," she smiled. Bowie's dad's eyes had those crinkles around them, like her own dad. She liked him immediately.

She sat down next to Bowie, as Cookie set platters of food on the table. There was meatloaf, as well as mashed potatoes and gravy, glazed carrots, tossed salads, and rolls, in steaming blue bowls. "Help yourself, baby doll," Cookie told Bex. "But save room for dessert. I have a little surprise cooked up."

Bex waited for Bowie's family to serve themselves, then filled her plate as various bowls and dishes were passed to her. She couldn't wait to dig in. She took a forkful of meatloaf and put it in her mouth. "Mmm," she said, closing her eyes with appreciation. "This is delicious! Bowie, how are you not three-hundred pounds!"

Bowie and his parents laughed. "Doesn't your mom make meatloaf?" he asked.

"Not like this," she said, taking another bite. Celia made turkey loaf. Dry, gray, and tasteless, it was only edible if drowned in ketchup. It didn't hold a candle to Cookie's version, which was so flavorful, it didn't need ketchup.

Cookie smiled, pleased. "I'm glad you like it. The secret ingredient is salsa."

"What do your parents do, Rebecca?" Bowie's dad asked her, not in a prying way, but as if he were genuinely interested in her small life, the way Bowie was.

Bex chewed a mouthful of glazed carrots. She wasn't a fan of vegetables, but these were practically candy. "My dad is an accountant, and my mom is in real estate," she told him, between bites.

The conversation went on throughout the meal, never becoming slow or awkward. "Bex is an amazing photographer," Bowie told his parents. "She's really talented."

"How wonderful," Cookie said. "What's your favorite subject to photograph?"

"People, mostly," Bex told her. "That's actually how I met Bowie. I took a photo of him."

"He's always been photogenic," Bowie's mom said proudly. "I was always snapping pictures of him when he was little. I should show you the albums later!"

"I'd love to see them!" Bex said, glancing at Bowie, who blushed.

After the meal was over, Cookie stood up. "Who's ready for dessert?"

"I am," Bowie announced, patting his stomach.

His mother brought a platter to the table. "These are my specialty. Name cookies!"

Bex looked down at the cookies on the platter. "Wow! These are almost too beautiful to eat!" And they were. She and Bowie's- _Steven's_ \- full first names were spelled out in frosted sugar cookies. She'd never seen anything like them.

"I know you prefer to be called Bex, honey," Bowie's mom told her. "But then your cookie would be awfully short." She patted Bex's shoulder.

"I don't mind if you call me Rebecca," Bex told her. "And I'd _never_ complain about a bigger cookie."

"I like this girl," Cookie told her son, chuckling. "Bring your cookies into the other room, and I'll break out the baby pictures."

* * *

Bex and Bowie took their cookies and followed Bowie's mom to the living room, where she produced a stack of albums and set them on the coffee table with a thud. "Here's we go. Have a seat, kids."

They sat down on either side of her, and she put the first album in her lap and opened it. Bex nibbled the 'R' in her name, and looked down at the photos. They began with the day Bowie was born. He was a pudgy baby, with a full head of hair. And they followed him through toddler-hood, to only recently. Bex laughed at one of him playing a toy guitar naked when he was about two. "You were so cute," she smiled.

"Wasn't he?" Cookie gushed. "Of course, he still is. Here. This one is my favorite!" She pointed at a snapshot of Bowie laying on a furry rug as an infant, naked once again. "He hated clothes when he was little," she laughed.

"You had a cute butt," Bex teased. She was now munching on the 'B' in her name.

"This is so embarrassing," he groaned.

It was getting late by the time they were through with Bowie's photo history. "I should really be getting home," Bex lamented.

"Okay," Bowie said. "Just let me grab my keys." He hurried off to his room.

"Thanks again for having me, Cookie," Bex told Bowie's mom. "I hate to leave. I had a great time."

"You're welcome here any time, sweetie," Cookie told her, giving her hand a squeeze. "You think of this as your second home, and me your second mama."

Bex felt a brief sting of guilt for silently wishing Cookie were her _first_ mama. "I will," she promised, as Cookie grabbed her up in another hug.

Bowie came back into the room. "You ready to head out?"

"Yeah," she nodded. She waved to Mr. Quinn. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too," he said, with a Bowie-like smile.

"Drive safely, kids," Cookie called after them.

* * *

Bowie parked on the curb in front of Bex's house. "I really had fun tonight."

"Me too," she agreed. "I love your family, and your house. Everything was so great."

Bowie smiled, stroking her hair softly. "Do you want me to walk you to the door?" he asked, as he usually did.

"No, that's okay," she said. "I'll be fine."

"Have you thought any more about me meeting your family soon?"

Bex chewed her lip nervously. "My parents are pretty busy, but I'll try to set something up." She noticed the slightly hurt look on his face, and she leaned in to kiss him.

Bowie kissed her back, seeming to forget the subject at hand. "Have a goodnight."

"You too," she smiled, giving him one more kiss, before hurrying off.

* * *

The following week, Bowie told Bex he had something special he wanted to show her. He was pretty vague about their plans, only telling her to dress warmly, but she knew it was probably something great, and she was excited. So she stuffed her pillows under her covers and climbed out the window as usual, and met him at the curb.

"So where are we going?" she asked him.

"It's a surprise," he told her with a smile. "But I think you'll like it." He drove outside of town, past the school and the park, and up a curving mountain road.

Finally, when they reached a wide cliff that overlooked Shadyside, he parked. "Here we are," he smiled. "I heard about this place from one of the guys in the band. Just look at the view."

"It's beautiful," Bex admitted. In the distance, the town twinkled below them like fairy lights. It looked small enough to fit in a snowglobe.

"I know this is a make-out spot," Bowie told her. "But I promise I didn't bring you her to get into your pants, or whatever."

"You're such a gentleman," Bex teased. "So why _did_ you bring me here?" She reached for his hand, squeezing it.

"So we can look at the stars," he told her. He got out of the car, and took a telescope from the trunk. Bex followed, taking a blanket and a picnic basket to a grassy spot.

"In my old town, there was a planetarium," Bowie told her as he set the telescope. "I used to go there almost every week, and just sit, and stare, and think. It was an awesome place. But this is even better." He gestured to the night sky.

They took turns looking through the telescope, Bowie pointing out the constellations he knew. Then he spread out the blanket, and they sat down on it. He opened the picnic basket, and produced a thermos of cocoa, since it was a chilly night. Bex lay her head on his shoulder as they stared up. "So, what did you think about when you used to go to the planetarium?"

He shrugged. "Just… life. My existence. The universe."

"That's pretty deep," she said. He never ceased to surprise her.

"Do you ever think about those kinds of things?" he asked her.

"Not really," she admitted. "Questioning my existence kind of scares me, I guess."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she said softly, taking a sip from her mug. "It just makes me feel insignificant, vulnerable. I don't like to think about my mortality."

"But there's so much more to it than that," Bowie told her. "Did you know we're made of the same stuff stars are made of? Think about how _amazing_ that is. We're part of those millions of stars up there, and they're part of us. There are so many mysteries to this life. But I like knowing that even though we're just tiny specks compared to the universe, we're all a part of a bigger picture. That there's someone or _something_ out there, wiser than us, who's guiding us along with the moon and the planets."

"I never thought of it that way," Bex realized "You make it all sound so magical." She held up her cocoa mug. "To the universe?"

Bowie smiled, clinking his mug against hers. "To the universe."

She moved closer to him for warmth, and he embraced her rubbing her back in slow circles. He leaned in to softly kiss her neck, then moved to her lips.

"What are you thinking about?" she whispered when they parted. She reached up to stroke his jawline with her thumb.

"I'm thinking that I never felt so connected to anyone as I do to you right now," he told her. "I feel like I've known you my whole life."

"Me too," she admitted.

He gave her a shy look. "Bex, there's something I need to tell you. I've wanted to tell you for a while, but the timing was never right." He broke their gaze, looking down.

Bex swallowed hard. "What is it?"

He looked back up. "Bex, I love you. I've loved you since the day we met. I know we haven't been together very long, but I can't imagine my life without you anymore. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Tears sprung to Bex's eyes, and she looked away to hide them. For the briefest moment, she had been afraid this was a breakup talk. It was so hard to read Bowie sometimes. He could either be light and joking, or intensely serious. He was unpredictable. She was so relieved, and so happy that he felt the same way she did.

"Are you okay?" Bowie winced. "Don't tell me I messed things up between us."

She shook her head. "No, Bowie. It's not that." she locked eyes with him once again. "Bowie, I love you too."

"You do?" he asked, taking her hand. "Because I know it's a big deal. I don't want to pressure you to say it back if you're not ready."

"Bowie!" she said, quieting him. "I don't know about this Universe stuff of yours. But if there is some force out there, guiding us all… I know it brought us together. I _love_ you. I've never been so sure of anything. I want to shout it to the world." She glanced at the edge of the cliff and smiled. "In fact, I will."

She hopped to her feet, and ran to the edge, looking down at Shadyside. She could see her house and school from where she was standing. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled at the top of her lungs, "I'm in love with Bowie Quinn!"

Bowie hurried to her, laughing. "So we're in love? It's official?"

She nodded as he picked her up and spun her around. "We're in love!"

Bowie looked deep into her eyes, and she looked into his. And their lips met in a frantic kiss.

"You're so cold," Bowie said when they parted.

Bex shivered, noticing it for the first time. "A little."

He slipped out of his jacket. "Here. Put this on." He helped her into it, then pulled her close, hugging her. "Let's get you home."

* * *

Bex had gotten home later than usual. As soon as she kissed Bowie goodbye, she hurried through her yard, and edged around the side of her house to the back window, where the trellis stood. She was tired, and she wasn't looking forward to the precarious climb, even though she was getting used to it. Taking a deep breath, she found a foothold for one boot, then the other, beginning her ascent up.

"Bex!" a voice hissed behind her.

She turned, gripping the thin slats of wood. _"Bowie!_ What are you doing here?"

"What's going on?" he asked. His face filled with hurt and confusion, then knowing. "Is this why you never let me walk you to your door?"


	7. Chapter 7 Meet The Parents

Chapter 7. Meet The Parents

"Bowie, it's not what it looks like," said Bex, stepping off the trellis.

"It _looks_ like you're sneaking into your house after our date," Bowie said. "The date that you asked me to pick you up at the curb for, like you've done for all our dates." He gave her a troubled look.

"Bowie, just let me explain," Bex breathed.

"Is it because you're ashamed of me for some reason?" he asked her in a shaky voice. "Is this also why you get all weird when I talk about meeting your parents?"

"No!" she cried. Tears stung her eyes. "It's not like that at all."

"Then what is it?" he asked. "Because I have to admit, I'm hurt. I just told you I _love_ you, Bex."

Bex sat down on the garden bench that rested next to the trellis and put her face in her hands. "I wish you hadn't followed me. Everything was going so well." She brushed her tears away, hoping he hadn't seen them.

Bowie sat down next to her, his face softening. "Please, tell me what's going on." He lay his hand on her back.

She looked up, through a curtain of her hair. "I'm not allowed to have a boyfriend, okay?" she admitted quietly.

"What?" Bowie studied her intently.

"My parents aren't like yours," she said in a trembling voice. "They're really, really strict. I'm not allowed to date. If my parents knew about you, they'd be mad, and they wouldn't let me see you. But I love you, and I want to be with you. So I have to sneak out. I didn't tell you, because I thought I'd lose you if you knew."

"Bex," Bowie said softly. His jaw was set in a firm line, and his eyes were dark. Bex studied his face, unable to tell what he was thinking.

"Bowie, I _love_ you," she said again. "I love you _so_ much. Don't let this change anything. We can just keep seeing each other the way we have."

"Bex, I'm really not comfortable with this," he finally said. "I care too much about you. This is so dangerous. You could fall and break your neck. And it would be my fault. I couldn't live with myself if you got hurt because of me."

"I'm really careful," she told him. "I won't fall."

"You don't _know_ that," he said. "And I don't like that you have to hide our relationship from your family. It makes it feel... I don't know... wrong. Couldn't you just tell them? Maybe they'd come around?"

"They won't," she said, with certainty. "They never change their mind about anything."

"Can't you just try?" he pleaded. "Maybe they'll surprise you this time."

"I can't," she choked, even though it hurt her to say it.

Bowie gave her a crushed look. "Then, I don't know if I can see you anymore, Bex."

"What?" she cried, her eyes filling with fresh tears. "No!"

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "This situation just makes me really uncomfortable."

"I'll tell them!" she decided. "I _promise_ I'll tell them." She didn't know how, but she would. She couldn't lose Bowie. He was the best thing in her life right now.

He nodded. "Call me when you do." He gave her a hug and a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He gave her a small wave. "I'll just watch you climb up, so I'll know you got in safely."

Bex stepped onto the trellis and slowly began to climb up, clinging to it. As she grabbed one of the wood slats above her, she got a splinter in her hand. She winced in pain, trying to ignore the warm, sticky blood on her palm. Finally, she managed to shinny to the top, and slip into her window. Once she was safely in her own room, she looked out the backyard, watching Bowie walk away.

Only when he was gone, did she realize she was still wearing his jacket. Keeping it wrapped around her, she went into the bathroom and dug the splinter out with a pair of tweezers, put a bandage on it, and crawled into bed, covering herself with the jacket as if it were a blanket. As she lay in the dark, tears rolled down her cheeks, onto her pillow.

* * *

The next day, Bex put her plan to convince her parents to accept Bowie into action. She got up early, made her own breakfast, and washed the dishes. She didn't mouth back to Celia once, and she helped her dad rake the yard. By early evening, she finally mustered up enough to courage to bring the subject up to to her parents, even if she was so nervous, her legs felt as if they wouldn't carry her into the kitchen.

Ham and Celia were at the stove, making dinner. "Hey dad," Bex said sweetly, sauntering in the room.

"Hey, honey," Ham nodded, as he threw some cubed chicken into a skillet.

"Hi, mom," Bex said, a little more cautiously, but still maintaining her angelic disposition.

"Rebecca," Celia nodded, as she chopped carrots. She barely looked up.

"So, what's for dinner?" she asked. "Something smells great!"

"Stir fry," Ham told her, giving the contents of the skillet an artful toss.

"Yum. My favorite!" Bex smiled. "Do you guys need any help?"

Celia dropped her knife on the cutting board and turned to her, eyeing her suspiciously. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing!" Bex said defensively. "I just wanted to spend some time with you guys."

Her mother looked her up and down skeptically, as if she could see right through her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said, popping a piece of carrot into her mouth. "I know you guys have been disappointed in me lately, but I really want to try harder to be a better daughter."

Celia snorted, but Ham smiled. "I think that's wonderful, Bex. Good for you!"

"On that note," Bex continued. "I think I would do better on my tests at school if I had a study partner. You know, like a friend from my class to compare notes with and do flashcards and stuff. And I think I found the perfect person."

"Oh?" Celia asked, as if she were still waiting for the punchline.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded, as she bit into another piece of carrot. "I have a history test on Monday, so I was wondering if it would be okay if I invited this friend over tomorrow to study, and maybe have dinner with us?" She nonchalantly reached for another piece of carrot, and her mom slapped at her hand.

"What friend?" Celia asked her, searching her eyes carefully. "Emily? Laura?"

"No," Bex said, trying to maintain a casual tone. "A new friend, actually."

Celia dumped the carrots into the skillet. "So? What's her name?"

"Um, actually, _she_ is a _he_ ," she replied, her voice shaking a little. She was starting to lose her nerve, and wondered if she was in over her head.

"I should have known," Celia said flatly. She shook her head. "No. No boys."

"Mom, that's so unfair!" Bex cried. "Bowie's new in town. He doesn't know many kids at school yet. And he's a really good student!" Honestly, she didn't know if _that_ was true, but it sounded like something her parents would want to hear.

"What kind of name is Bowie?" Celia wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something bad.

 _"Please,_ mom?" Bex pleaded.

"No," her mom said without missing a beat.

"Dad?" Bex asked, looking to her father.

"Don't you dare give into her Ham," Celia ordered. She sighed. "I might have known you were just trying to manipulate us. You'll never change!"

"Please, mom?" Bex asked again. _"Please, please, please!"_

 _"No!"_ Celia said louder. "You know the rules."

"You're just sexist!" Bex blurted out. Her parents looked up at each other and burst into laughter. She turned away angrily. "This is crap! I'm going to my room."

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes," Ham told her.

"I don't want any," she replied sharply, before running up the stairs to her room and slamming her door as hard as she could.

* * *

Bex's stomach growled. She lay in bed, trying to ignore it. She had a much bigger problem at hand. She was about to lose the love of her life, and her parents could care less.

Finally, hunger won. She tiptoed down the stairs, skipping the steps she knew creaked, and wandered into the kitchen, hoping to avoid Celia. Her mother was nowhere in sight, but her father was at the sink, washing the dishes.

"Hi, sweetie," he said, glancing back at her. "You hungry?"

Bex shrugged. "I'll just make a sandwich."

Her dad shook his head. "I saved you a plate. I'll warm it up for you."

"Thanks, dad," Bex smiled. "Where's mom?"

"She went to bed early," Ham told her. "She had a headache." The microwave beeped, and he brought her dinner to the table and sat down across from her. "So, this Bowie?" he asked casually.

 _"Dad,"_ Bex sighed, stabbing a piece of broccoli.

"Is Bowie more than just a friend?" he asked.

Bex felt heat rise to her cheeks. "No comment," she said, pushing the rice around on her plate.

"Honey, you know how your mom feels about you dating," he said calmly. "Not until you're eighteen."

"Yeah, I know," she replied. She set her fork down. "Wouldn't it be easier just to ship me off to nun school?"

Her dad chuckled.

"It's not funny!" she cried.

"I'm sorry, hon," he apologized, wiping his eyes. "But I think the word you're looking for is 'convent.' And I'm pretty sure you have to be Catholic to get into one."

"Whatever," Bex murmured. She sighed, defeated. "It's just not fair. It's like you and mom don't trust me at all."

"It's the _boys_ we don't trust," he dad corrected. "You have your moments, Bex, but I believe we raised you to make good decisions. You have a good head on your shoulders."

"But you guys don't even _know_ Bowie," she told him. "He's so nice, and polite. He would never do anything to hurt me. You won't even give him a chance."

"If you like him, I'm sure he's very nice," Ham said calmly.

"Then why can't he come over?" she asked. "We're just going to study together. It's not like we're going to elope or anything." She frowned down at her dinner. "Sometimes-" she stopped, shaking her head.

"Sometimes, what, sweetheart?"

"Sometimes I just want to be normal," she admitted. "Sometimes I want to do things regular sixteen-year-olds get to do. But mom won't let me."

Her dad gave her a wistful look. "Your mom loves you very much, Bex," he said. "We both do. We just want to protect you."

"There's a difference between protecting and suffocating," she pointed out.

Ham reached out to touch her hand, looking her in the eye. "Do you feel suffocated?" he asked, soberly.

Bex looked down in shame. How could she explain without hurting her dad, that sometimes she felt trapped in her own home, that her room felt more like a cell than a sanctuary, and Celia was her jailer?

Her dad gave her a sad look. "Tell you what, honey. I'll talk to your mom, see if I can't wear her down."

Bex's face lit up. "Dad, you're the best! Thanks!"

"No promises," he reminded her. "So don't get your hopes up. But I will do my best."

* * *

Bex didn't know how her father did it, but somehow, by some miracle that she didn't dare question, he convinced Celia to begrudgingly let Bowie come over- under constant supervision, of course. "I expect an A on this test," Celia had reminded her when she told her the news.

At exactly five thirty-seven, the doorbell rang. Bex shot off the couch and ran to answer it. "Bowie!" she smiled, trying to stay calm. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and kiss him, but she knew she had to restrain herself. "I'm so glad you could make it. Come in." She stepped aside, letting him pass the threshold.

"Thanks for inviting me," he told her. "It means a lot to me." Their eyes connected. He reached out to brush her hair back from her face.

Celia cleared her throat behind them.

"Oh!" Bex said, remembering her parents. "Mom and dad, this is Bowie." She turned back to her boyfriend. "Bowie, this is my mom, Celia."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mrs. M.," Bowie said. He held his hand out. Bex was expecting him to shake her hand, but instead he went for a high five. Celia looked at his hand with disdain, and he withdrew it awkwardly. "I can see where Bex gets her good looks," he smiled.

Celia's face reddened, and Bex jumped in, desperate to save the evening from disaster before it even started. "And Bowie, this is my dad, Ham," she said, directing him to her father.

Bowie smiled. "Ham, my man!" he said. "Cool name!"

"That's _Mr. Mack,"_ Celia corrected.

"Ham is fine," her dad told Bowie. To Bex's surprise, he held his hand up for Bowie to high five him. Then, he slapped him on the back. "Come on in. Make yourself at home. We'll be right in the kitchen." He turned to his wife, who was standing firmly in the entryway. "The _kitchen_ , Celia." He took her by the arm and guided her out of the room.

"Well," said Bex. "Shall we retire to the living room?" She winked playfully.

"That sounds delightful," he winked back.

Bex led him to the couch, where her schoolbooks were already spread out.

"Your house is really nice," Bowie told her, looking around. "It's so big."

She shrugged. "I like your house better." Everything in her house was so pristine and spotless, almost like the houses Celia staged to sell. Maybe that was why she was so good at her job? Bex preferred the cozy clutter of Bowie's house. Cookie obviously didn't spend every moment of her life trying to make her house look perfect, and that was fine. It was lived in.

She opened her text book and pulled out her class notes. She looked up to see Bowie itching his neck, which was red, and raw in some spots. "You wore your necklace, I see," she said, a little flattered that he would suffer for her.

"I thought it would be good luck," he shrugged.

Bex laughed. "How's that working out for you?" she teased

"Do we really have to study?" he whispered. He glanced toward the kitchen, where Celia was keeping a distrustful eye on them, as if she fully expected them to rip off their clothes and have rough sex right on the coffee table.

Bex nodded apologetically. "It's the only way my mom would let you come over."

Bowie sighed. "You're lucky I'd do anything for you." He began to doodle absentmindedly in her notebook as she read out loud their practice questions. He tapped her hand with his pencil. "What do you think of this answer. Is it right?"

Bex looked down at her paper, where he'd written, _'You look cute tonight._ ' She blushed, smiling, and wrote back, _'so do you.'_

"Yeah," she nodded. "I think it's right."

 _'I love you so much,'_ he jotted.

She read his words. _'I love you too,'_ she answered with a note of her own. She doodled a little heart with their initials inside.

"What did you get for question three?" he asked her. "I don't think my answer is right."

"Let me see." She leaned down to study his note. _'I wish we could be alone right now.'_

"You just got this part wrong," she said. She pretended to correct his work, but instead, wrote down, _'me too. What would you do if we were?'_

He paused a moment, thoughtfully. _'I'd lay you down on your bed and kiss every inch of your gorgeous body,'_ he wrote.

Bex's heart skipped a beat. _'I'd let you,'_ she answered, writing quickly. This was the sexiest thing she'd ever done, especially since it was being done right under her parents' noses.

By the time her dad called them for dinner, Bex and Bowie had filled three pages of notes, which had grown progressively dirtier. Unfortunately, they'd gotten very little studying done. Bex shrugged that fact off as they walked to the dinner table and sat down beside each other, linking hands under the table. She'd think about school later.

Celia brought a covered dish to the table. "Here we are."

"Mom, _you_ cooked?" Bex asked, a little surprised. She was really hoping her dad would make Bowie one of his delicious meals, like lasagna or beef Stroganoff, instead of one of Celia's healthy creations.

"Yes," her mom answered. "We have a guest, and I've been dying to try this recipe out. You guys can be my guinea pigs."

"Great," Bex frowned. She didn't dare comment, knowing her mom could pull the plug on the night at any time.

"It smells delicious, Mrs. Mack," Bowie offered. He scratched his neck.

"I agree, Celia," Ham nodded. "You really outdid yourself." He rubbed his hands together excitedly. Bex thought he was overdoing it.

Celia served everyone a scoop of fluffy quinoa dotted with peppers and flat, dark green ribbons of seaweed. Bex groaned internally. Her eyes widened with horror when her mom uncovered the main dish and served Bowie first. "I hope you like it."

"Sweet!" Bowie grinned. "I love chicken!" He picked up a piece of the meat and raised it to his mouth. But it wasn't chicken. Bex recognized that jiggle, the telltale sign of tofu. She opened her mouth to warn him, as her mother cut in.

"Young man, I don't know the rules in your home, but we use forks here." She frowned disapprovingly. "We're not animals."

Bowie set down his "chicken." "Sorry, Mrs. M., he apologized. I was just so excited to dig in." He cut a hunk off with his fork and shoved it in his mouth, giving his neck another hearty itch.

"Bowie," Bex said, but it was too late.

He chewed a few times, and his smile faded, deepening into a frown. Then, a look of disgust. He spit the tofu out in his hand, and grabbed his water glass, draining it.

"For Pete's sake, don't spit food out at the table!" Celia cried, horrified. "Here! Use a napkin if you must."

"What is that stuff?" Bowie asked, once he recovered.

"Tofu," Bex said, mortified.

"It's an acquired taste," Ham said apologetically. He gave Celia a hard look of disapproval.

* * *

The dinner dragged on uncomfortably after that, the family and Bowie eating in silence. Bex noticed he picked the strands of seaweed out of his quinoa, just like she did, while Celia judgmentally watched him as he scratched his rash.

The meal ended with dessert, which was some kind of pudding that tasted good but looked disgusting. Bex wanted to cry as she ate it. Her mother had sabotaged her night. She _knew_ her mom had given in too easily. She wouldn't blame Bowie if he never spoke to her again. But she was reassured that he wasn't angry when he reached under the table and took her hand once again.

Finally, after dinner was over, Celia said that it was a school night, and it was time for Bowie to go home. "I'll walk you out," Bex said.

Bowie smiled. "Thanks for having me, Mr. and Mrs. M."

"No problem," Ham told him. "It was nice meeting you."

Bowie cleared his throat. "And listen. I know you guys had some concerns about Bex and I, but I want you to know, you have nothing to worry about. I love Bex with all my heart, and I'll treat her with the utmost respect."

Celia opened her mouth, ready to comment, but Ham cut in. "Thank you, Bowie. We appreciate that."

"You ready?" Bex asked. Before he could answer, she hurried him out the door.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, once they were outside. "For the tofu, and the way my mom acted, and everything. I'm so embarrassed."

"It's okay, Bex," he sighed. "It wasn't your fault." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, rubbing his chest. Apparently his rash was spreading. "Your dad seems like a nice guy."

"He is," she smiled. "I think he liked you."

"Can't say the same for your mom, I guess," he shrugged.

"Don't worry about her," Bex said. "She'll come around. And if she doesn't, that's her problem. I love you, and that's all that matters."

Bowie smiled. "I love you too, Bex." He took her in his arms and kissed her. "I better get going. See ya tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," she nodded.

* * *

For a moment after Bowie left, Bex felt lighter than air. Then, she remembered how angry she was, when Celia tapped on the window, signaling for her to get inside. If she had to hazard a guess, she's say her mom had been spying on them through the window the whole time they were out there.

She stomped into the house, and slammed the door behind her. "Thanks a lot mom! You _humiliated_ me!"

"That _boy_ should be the one who's humiliated," Celia said. "He's a slob. He has no table manners. He acts like he was raised in a barn! Not to mention, he's infectious!"

"He's not _infectious,"_ Bex said, imitating her mother. "He's just allergic to his necklace!"

"What you see in him is beyond me," Celia retorted.

"You set him up!" Bex accused. "You made that disgusting dinner on purpose, and you were rude to him!"

"Let's try and calm down, girls," Ham said, diplomatically. "I think we can all agree that tonight didn't go as planned, but there's no need to get upset. It's over and done with."

"I _won't_ calm down!" Bex shouted. "And I'm not upset, I'm _furious!_ Bowie tried to so hard, and mom treated him like shit!"

"Watch your mouth!" Ham warned. He turned to his wife. "I have to agree with Bex, though, Celia. Was it really necessary to treat the kid that way? He seems like he means well."

"I'm going to take a shower," Bex said, more than ready to get away from her family. She started toward the stairs, and then she remembered her notebook on the coffee table. She turned back and grabbed it, then stormed out of the room.

* * *

A half an hour later, Bex stepped out of the shower and dried off. She put on her soft, worn in bathrobe, and wrapped her wet hair in a towel. The hot shower had helped relieve the tension in her shoulders. All she wanted to do now was crawl into bed, and stay there for a year or two.

She paused as she exited the bathroom. Her mother was sitting on her bed, wearing her thick red reading glasses, holding her notebook. _"Mom!"_ she cried. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just a little light reading," Celia said. "Listen to this line-" She opened her mouth to speak.

"That's private!" Bex shouted, grabbing the notebook from her mother's hands. Tears stung her eyes. She and Bowie had both written personal things in that notebook. Things that weren't meant for anyone's eyes but theirs. "You have no right to touch my things!"

"What is this _filth_ , Rebecca?" Celia cried. "Are you sleeping with that boy?"

"No!" she said. "It was just a joke!"

"Well, I'm not laughing!" her mom snapped. She stood up and went to the window. "Care to explain this?" She pointed to the windowsill. Once spotless white, it was marred with scuffs and scrapes. Bex's stomach sunk. She knew those marks could have only gotten there from climbing in and out of the window. "And this as well?" She held up Bowie's jacket with two fingers, as if it were filthy. It was the jacket he had given to Bex the night they went to look at the stars. She'd forgotten to return it to him.

"You've been sneaking out to see him, haven't you? Right under our noses! I _knew_ you two were a little to familiar to have just met."

"I _didn't_ sneak out," Bex said, her voice shaking, even though she knew she was busted.

"Don't lie to me," Celia said sharply. "And you better believe that trellis is coming down first thing tomorrow. And as for you, you're never seeing that disgusting boy again. I _forbid_ it."

Bex wiped her tears away, shaking. "You can't stop me from seeing Bowie."

"Yes, I can," Celia told her. "I'm your mother, and as long as you're living under my roof, you'll follow my rules."

"You can't keep us apart," Bex said, her voice trembling. "Bowie and I love each other. I'll find a way to see him no matter what!"

"We'll see about that."

Bex felt her cheeks get hot, and her eyes blurred with tears. "Get _out_ of here!" she shouted. "Just get out and leave me _alone!"_

Her mother finally left the room in a huff. Once she was gone, Bex ripped the pages of notes out of her book and tore them up. Her mother had crossed a line. And Bex wasn't sure there was any way to come back from it.

* * *

One Week Later:

Celia turned up her street and pulled into her driveway. It had been a long day- a long _week_ \- made worse by Rebecca bringing home not only a D on her test, but three C's on her mid-term report.

At least that Bowie nonsense seemed to be put to rest. The trellis had come down, as much as it hurt Celia to destroy part of her garden. Rebecca was grounded because of her grades, and she'd mentioned in passing that Bowie had been sick and absent from school the past few days.

Celia's bad mood worsened, though, when she got out of the car, shouldering a bag of groceries, only to see Bowie sitting on her steps, poking her lawn with a stick. "Can I help you?" she asked.

He looked up through his shaggy hair. "I was just waiting for Bex," he said. "Is she home?"

"She's not," Celia told him. "I'm sorry." Rebecca was baby-sitting, the only outside activity she was allowed to do while she was being punished.

"Do you know when she'll be home?" he asked her.

Celia sighed. "No, I don't. And even if I did, Rebecca needs to focus on her studies. She's going to be spending a lot less time with friends until she gets her grades up."

"Oh," Bowie said. He stuck his hands in his pockets. "But... is she okay? She hasn't been answering my calls the past few days."

Rebecca's phone had been taken away, but Celia's instincts told her not to mention that to him. "I really don't know what's going on with her," she told him. "I'm sorry."

He nodded. "I understand."

Celia shifted her grocery bag from one arm to the other. The wheels in her head were turning, and an idea slowly formed. Before she could tell herself it was just too mean, she convinced herself it was for the best. "Bowie, I'm going to be honest with you. I think its for the best if you don't come around anymore. I really think you're more serious about Rebecca than she is about you."

"What do you mean?" His face clouded with hurt.

Celia felt a moment of regret, but she was in too deep now. "She's seeing someone else. That's the reason she hasn't been taking your calls. I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you. I think you should just forget about her."

"What?" Bowie's eyes shone. He really did have lovely eyes, Celia realized.

"I have perishables," she apologized quickly, desperate to get away. "I really have to get them inside."

She passed him and went to the door, unlocking it, vaguely seeing Bowie walk away. Hardening her heart, he tried to push the look of hurt on his face away, as she put her groceries in the freezer. She reminded herself once again that what she'd done was for the best. It was her job to protect her daughter. And she would do so, no matter what it it took.


	8. Chapter 8 The Party

**Trigger Warning: this chapter contains some violence**

The minute Bex walked into school on Monday, she felt as if something were wrong. The atmosphere felt different. Everyone seemed to be watching her, but pretending not to. Bowie wasn't waiting for her at his locker, like he always did. She knew he had been sick, and wondered if he was still absent. She hadn't seen or talked to him over the weekend, since her parents were watching her every move. She waited for him for a while, then, when the first bell rang, she went to homeroom.

The her immense relief, Bowie was sitting at his desk. She smiled and waved to him, but he didn't seem to see her. "Bowie," she said, as she set her books down on her desk. "How are you feeling?"

He looked at her briefly, but didn't answer.

She frowned. "Bowie? Hello? You okay?" She waved her hand in front of his face.

"Take your seat, Ms. Mack," her teacher called.

Bex sighed and sat down, still glancing back at Bowie.

* * *

When Homeroom ended, Bex waited outside the classroom door. She grabbed Bowie's arm as he started to leave the room. "Hey! What's up with you?" she asked him. "Is everything okay?"

He shook his head. He looked tired; his beautiful eyes were rimmed with dark shadows, as if he hadn't been sleeping. "I've heard the things people say about you, Bex, but I never believed them. How could I have been so stupid?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked. She stifled a laugh, thinking he must be joking and hadn't yet delivered the punchline.

He gave her a sad look. "I'm sorry."

"I don't understand," she said, her voice trembling. "Bowie? Are you breaking up with me?"

"I've gotta go." He turned and walked away.

"Bowie, wait!" she called. But he didn't turn around. Her stomach sunk when she saw Hayley catch up to him.

* * *

By the next day, Bex still hadn't spoken with Bowie. He hadn't shown up for lunch, disappearing from school all together after homeroom. Bex had tried to call him, but her calls went straight to voicemail. Something was very, very wrong.

It weighed on her shoulders all day, and sunk down to her stomach, creating a knot. When it was time for gym class, she knew she didn't have it in her to participate.

She dawdled around the locker room, pretending to fold her clothes carefully, waiting for everyone to leave. The locker room was silent, and a little eerie. Above her, she could hear sneakers squeaking on the gym floor.

She'd just closed her locker door when she heard a rustle of movement, accompanied by giggling, and realized she was no longer alone. She crouched behind a block of lockers, hardly daring to breath, and let anyone know she was there.

"Miss Darling is such a witch," a girl's high voice said, referring to the PE teacher. "It should be our choice what we wear for gym." A locker door opened with a metallic clang.

"Do you have an extra hair tie?" a nasal voice asked.

Bex recognized the voices. They belonged to Natalie and Hayley. The two of them were forever trying to get out of gym class by pretending to forget their gym suits. She guessed Miss Darling had caught onto them and sent them down to change into something appropriate.

"Yeah, here," said Hayley. Bex pressed against the lockers, trying to breath as quietly as possible.

"Have you picked out your outfit for the bonfire yet?" Natalie asked her friend.

"I'm going shopping after school," Hayley replied. "You should come with me." There was some rustling. "Whatever I pick, I know it's going to be something short." She giggled in her annoying way. Bex hated both of their voices.

"I can't believe you're going with Bowie Quinn," Natalie said. "You're so lucky. He's the hottest guy in school."

Bex's eyes widened with shock.

"I wonder what happened with him and _Bex?"_ She said Bex's name in a snotty voice.

"Who cares?" Hayley laughed. "He's way too good for that slut. The only reason he dated her is because he doesn't know her like the rest of us do. But he'll learn."

Bex balled her fists. She wanted nothing more than to punch them both in the mouth, but she managed to stay hidden.

"Remember 7th grade, when we hiked up to that pond for our class picnic, and Bex and Paul Johnson came out of the woods together?" Natalie asked. Both girls laughed viciously. "Do you think they did it that day?"

"Oh yeah," Hayley said knowingly. "Paul told me all about it."

"She's always been a whore," Natalie spat. "And everyone knows it."

Bex cringed, her face burning. She remembered that day vividly. It was the day that tainted her reputation. And it started because of a lie. She did _not_ have sex with Paul on the 7th grade class picnic. She'd gotten her first period. Paul had found her crying behind the park bathrooms, because she'd stained her shorts and was too humiliated to rejoin the rest of the class. He'd loaned her his sweatshirt to tie around her waist.

She and Paul had been friends. But after that, things changed. He never spoke to her again. And the ugly, whispered rumors about her began.

Tears stung her eyes at the memory.

"Bowie was smart to dump her before he catches something," Hayley said. "I hate that bitch so much." They laughed. Bex heard them gather their things and leave the locker room.

Once they were gone, she let her tears fall. She slid down the lockers to the cool cement floor, gathering her knees to her chest, and wept as if her heart would break.

"Bex?"

Bex glanced up from her folded arms to see Emily standing over her.

"What's wrong?" Emily frowned. "You never came up for gym." She sat down beside her friend. "What happened?" she asked softly.

Bex tried to speak, but her voice broke. Emily pulled her into a hug. She sobbed against her best friend's shoulder.

"Do you need me to get the nurse?" Emily asked. "Are you sick?"

Bex shook her head. "It's Bowie," she breathed, shakily. "He broke up with me, and I don't know why. He won't even look at me."

"Oh, honey." Emily smoothed back Bex's hair, tying it in a loose ponytail. "Are you sure he broke up with you? Maybe you just misunderstood?"

Bex shook her head. "No, you don't understand. Natalie and Hayley were just down here. I heard them talking. He's taking Hayley to Mitch Harper's bonfire on Saturday." She wiped her sticky tears away with the back of her hand.

"Maybe they were lying?" Emily offered. "Did they know you were down here?"

"No, I don't think so." She shook her head, fresh tears filling her eyes. "I don't understand what happened, Em. Everything was good. We just said 'I love you' to each other. What did I do?"

"I'm sure you didn't do anything," Emily told her. "Whatever is going on is his problem, not yours." She went to the sink and wet a paper towel. "Here. Let's wash your face. Everyone will be coming down soon."

* * *

Emily and Bex walked to lunch after gym was over. As they entered the cafeteria, Bex hesitated. She stopped, grabbing her friend's arm.

"What?" Emily asked.

"Bowie's here," she told her. "He's sitting by Hayley." Her heart squeezed as she watched the love of her life talk with the girl she hated.

"Ignore him," Emily told her. "If he wants to be an idiot, let him." She guided Bex to their usual table.

They sat down, and Bex glanced back, watching Bowie. She wanted nothing more than to be with him. What was happening didn't feel real, like a bad dream she couldn't wake up from. He must have sensed her watching, because he looked back at her. Their eyes met briefly, and they turned away from each other.

"Hey, gorgeous."

Bex looked up to see Joel Tan sit down across from her. She cringed when she felt his foot rub against her ankle. She pulled her foot away, crossing her legs under her chair.

"Where's your boyfriend?" he asked.

Bex looked down at her lunch, trying with all she had not to cry.

Emily gave him a hard look. "Shut _up_ , Joel. I'm serious."

"What did I say?"

Bex sighed. "Bowie and I aren't... together... anymore," she managed to get out. Her hands shook.

He gave her a sober look. "I'm sorry, Bex. I didn't know."

She shrugged, stealing another glance at Bowie. He was laughing at something someone had said.

"Hey, if you two aren't together anymore, you want to go to Mitch's party with me?"

She gave him a disgusted look. "Are you seriously asking me that right now?"

"Just thought I'd ask," Joel said. "I thought you might want to have some fun, take your mind off things. I'm just trying to be a nice guy, here."

Bex looked back at Bowie again. She couldn't control herself, even though it hurt. Likewise, she could feel his eyes on her.

She was about to tell Joel she wouldn't go out with him if he were the last guy on earth, when she saw Hayley throw her arms dramatically around Bowie, giggling, and a thought occurred to her. Bowie was going to the party. If she was there, she could keep an eye on him. And if she went with another boy, albeit a repulsive boy, maybe it would make him jealous?

She turned back to Joel. "Yeah, fine. I'll go with you."

Emily gave Bex a stunned look. She would have to explain her plan to her friend later.

"Really?" Joel seemed just as shocked as Emily.

"I have to ask my parents, but I guess so."

"You won't regret it," he smiled.

* * *

After school, Bex sat at the kitchen table, tearing apart a peanut butter sandwich. She hadn't eaten her lunch, but she wasn't hungry. She was too depressed to eat.

All she could think about was Bowie. Obsessively, she mentally went over every interaction between them, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. She kept going back to the night he'd come over for dinner. But he couldn't possibly be mad about the way her mom had treated him. He'd told her before he left that everything was fine. They'd kissed goodnight. They'd said 'I love you.'

It didn't make any sense.

"Hello, Rebecca."

Bex turned to see her mom come in, home from work. "Hey," she mumbled.

Celia took a pitcher of water from the fridge and poured herself a drink. "How was your day?"

"Terrible," Bex frowned.

Celia came to the table. "Is everything okay?"

She shook her head. "Mom... I know we never talk about stuff." Her voice shook. "But I really need a mom to talk to right now."

Her mother's face softened. "I'm listening."

Bex's eyes stung. "Bowie broke up with me, mom." Her face crumpled. She discretely brushed away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She hated being vulnerable in front of Celia.

"Did he say why?" Celia asked her.

She shook her head. "No. He won't tell me. He won't even talk to me."

"I'm sorry," Celia said, looking down at the table. "That's hard."

"I miss him so much," she sniffled. "I know you hate him, but I love him. He's the best thing that ever happened to me."

Her mom inhaled slowly. "This is why I didn't want you to date until you were older, Rebecca. These high school romances just don't last. I knew he'd hurt you." She straightened the edge of the tablecloth. "I know it's not what you want to hear, but maybe it's best to just move on?"

"I don't want to move on," Bex said. "I just want Bowie back."

"But you can't force him to be with you," Celia told her. "And he's obviously not mature enough to know what he wants. Dwelling on him will only make you unhappy."

She sighed. "I just wish I knew what I did."

Her mother cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I hate to see you like this, Rebecca," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Is there anything at all I can do to help you feel better?"

Bex shrugged. Then she remembered the party. "Well, there is one thing."

"What is it?"

"There's this party," she explained. "Mitch Harper from school is having a bonfire, and everyone's going. I'd really like to go too."

"Would it be supervised?" Celia asked.

"Yeah," she nodded. "His parents will be there." She didn't add that his parents would also be providing a keg. "The thing is," she went on. "Someone asked me to the party. Joel Tan? You know his mom?"

"Joel?" Celia looked up, brightening. "He's a nice boy."

"I'm not really interested in him, but it was nice of him to ask," Bex said. "I told him I'd talk to you about it." She gave her mom a wry look. "I know there's no chance you'd ever let me go."

"I think you should go," Celia said.

Bex gave her a confused look. "What?"

"Tell him you'll go," her mom repeated.

"I don't understand... you're saying I can go to a party with a boy?"

"Yes, Rebecca," Celia nodded. "I'm giving you my permission."

"Are you feeling okay, mom?"

"I'm fine," her mother assured her. "I still don't like the idea of you dating, but if you must go to this party, I'd rather see you go with a clean-cut boy from a good family. I trust Joel to look out for you."

Bex stared at her mom for another long moment. She wanted to defend Bowie, to tell her mom that he _was_ a nice boy, from the best kind of family; that _Joel_ was the jerk. But she was afraid to question Celia, in case she changed her mind. "Okay. I guess I'll go call him."

She got up and headed to her room. Once she was inside, she looked up Joel's number and dialed it. He was thrilled that she could go to the party with him. As she was hanging up, she had the urge to dial Bowie's number, just to hear his voice. But she didn't. Hands shaking, she set the phone down on her bed.

Her heart had never ached so badly.

* * *

Mitch's parties were legendary in Shadyside. He lived in a big, secluded farmhouse, with a sprawling yard that backed up against thick woods. Everyone in school was always invited. And the things that went on there were whispered about in the hallways weeks after the parties ended.

Bex was virtually the only kid at Jefferson who'd never been to one before. Ironically, it was the last place she wanted to go. On the way up the Harper's winding driveway, she was painfully aware that she was there with the wrong person.

Joel parked his car on the edge of the lawn, which was already crowded with cars. Bex could hear music swelling in the distance, and could see kids milling around the property in the dusky darkness. She and Joel walked toward the glow of the bonfire.

As they approached the crowd, Bex scanned the faces, searching for Bowie. He was nowhere to be seen. She wondered if he'd actually show up at all.

"Do you want to sit by the fire?" Joel asked her, snapping her out of her melancholy thoughts.

"Uh, no thanks," she said. "I'm good."

"We could dance?" he offered.

"I don't really like to dance," she apologized, shrugging. "Sorry."

"We could go skinny dipping," he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Bex glanced toward the Harper's pond. It was a cool night, but kids were undressing and jumping in the dark water. "No way," she told him flatly.

"Come on, what do you want to do?" he asked her. As he did so, he slipped his hand onto her butt. It didn't feel good, like it did when Bowie put his hand there. It made her squirm inside.

She moved away from him as familiar voices caught her attention. She turned to see Emily, and Laura Grant, another friend. "Actually, could we go by the fire after all?"

"I thought you didn't want to," he said, puzzled.

"I'm just a little cold," she told him, hurrying toward her friends. She didn't care if he followed or not. But he did.

She sat down next to Emily and Laura. "Hey, you guys."

"Hey," they said, as Joel joined them on the long log that served as a seat.

Laura gave Joel a look of disdain. "Bex, I know you're having a hard time after your breakup, but you can't be _that_ desperate," she whispered.

"Shh," Emily shot back, stifling a giggle. She froze, grabbing Bex's arm. "Bex, Bowie's here."

Bex look across the fire pit. Sure enough, Bowie and Hayley had just arrived. Her stomach sunk, and she realized she was not prepared to see him there, with _her._

Bowie looked up, straight at her. Bex thought he seemed sad, too. The light that was normally in his eyes wasn't there. For a second, she almost thought he was about to come over to her. She braced herself to talk to him, ready to make up. But instead of approaching her, he turned to Hayley and cupped her face in his hand, like he often did to her. Bex watched them kiss.

"I need a drink," she said, standing up. She hurried to the refreshment table and served herself a plastic cup of beer. She'd never drank before, but if anything warranted drinking, it was this.

"You're really letting loose tonight," Joel said, filling a cup of his own. "I like it."

She took a sip of her beer. It was awful. But she swallowed it anyway. She walked back to the fire, Joel trailing after her like a lost puppy dog. When she returned to her seat, she saw that Bowie and Hayley were making out. She drained her cup.

"You want another drink?" Joel asked her.

"Sure," she nodded, handing him the empty red cup. She didn't take her eyes off of Bowie. _Two can play at this game,_ she thought.

When Joel returned with drinks, she took a long sip. Then she moved closer to him.

"You look so sexy tonight," he said, laying his hand on her thigh. Bex didn't brush him away. Instead, she huddled against him, pretending to be chilled. Sure enough, he leaned in to kiss her. And she let him.

"You want to make out?" he whispered, his breath hot in her ear. "We could go somewhere more private."

"I want to stay here," she said. "It's warmer." She pressed her lips against his.

Joel's hands slid down her back as he drew her near him. He kissed her hungrily, wetly, trying to slip his tongue into her mouth. But she kept her lips together, holding him back. As they made out, she kept one eye trained on Bowie. He'd definitely noticed them, and was putting on a show himself.

Suddenly, she couldn't stand it anymore. She stood up.

"Where are you going?" Joel asked her.

"I just need some air," she said hurriedly. "I'm sorry." She rushed away.

* * *

Bex didn't allow herself to cry until she was alone in the woods. She sat on a fallen, rotting log, setting her plastic cup beside her, and put her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with broken sobs. She didn't understand how Bowie could do this to her- say he loved her one minute, then break up with her for no reason at all. And now he was already making out with another girl. It felt like he'd ripped her heart out of her chest.

She looked up when she heard twigs and leaves crunching, the sounds of footsteps coming toward her.

"Bex?"

She sighed as a figure emerged from the woods. It was just Joel.

"There you are," he said. "I was looking for you." He held out a new cup. "I brought you a fresh drink."

"Thanks." She took the cup and downed it, hoping it would numb her pain.

"You okay?" he asked, sitting beside her.

"No," she sniffled. "I'm miserable. Thanks for asking."

"What's wrong?"

"Look, Joel," she sighed. "It's nice that you wanted to go out with me. But I still have feelings for Bowie, and he's here with another girl. I think I'd really just like to go home."

She started to stand, but Joel grabbed her arm. "I'm not ready to leave. The party's just getting good."

She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let go. "I can find another ride." She'd walk home if she had to, just to get away from this personal hell.

"You came here with me, and you've been treating me like shit all night," Joel said, the tone of his voice changing. His breath reeked of beer, and he stumbled a little on the uneven ground. Bex realized then how drunk he really was.

"Let me go," she said. "I want to go home."

"Don't be a tease," he slurred. "You haven't even given me the chance to show you a good time yet."

"Get your hands off me," she said firmly, trying to pull away again. "You're _hurting_ me!"

"Come on, Bex. You think I'm dumb?" he asked, pushing her up against a tree. He pinned her arms to her sides, a wild look in his eyes. "I know you're just using me. It's my turn to use you."

His smelly mouth was on hers before she could protest. When she opened her mouth to scream, he forced his tongue down her throat, gagging her.

He slipped his hands under her shirt, and he began to roughly, painfully grope her breasts through her bra.

She was strong for her small size, but as hard as she struggled, he was stronger, and her head was fuzzy from drinking. _This is it,_ she thought numbly. _I'm going to get raped in the woods. The perfect way to end this night._

"You're so beautiful," Joel mumbled into her mouth. With one hand, he fumbled between them, unzipping his jeans. She could feel him against her hip.

Bex choked on vomit, squeezing her eyes shut with terror, as hot tears trickled down her cheeks.


	9. Chapter 9 The Truth Comes Out

Chapter 9. The Truth Comes Out

Bex struggled to get away from Joel one more time, but he wrapped one big hand around her neck. Her bare shoulder scraped against the rough bark on the tree, tearing her sleeve, and she winced in pain.

"Hey!" A voice rang out through the woods. "Get off her!"

She managed to turn her head enough to see a figure burst through the trees. The next thing she knew Bowie was there. He grabbed Joel by the shirt and ripped him away from her. She sobbed, holding her throat.

Bowie's fist connected with Joel's jaw. He stumbled and fell backward.

"You don't touch her!" Bowie shouted, the veins in his neck bulging. "If you ever put your hands on her again, I'll kill you! Do you hear me?"

Joel scrambled to his feet and tried to shove Bowie. "Stay out of this. This is between me and her!"

"You don't want to mess with me, Joel!" Bowie grabbed him, throwing him against the tree. "You know I can kick your ass!"

Joel broke away, backing off. His lip was busted and bleeding. He looked up at Bex. "Slut," he muttered. He turned and hurried off, back toward the party.

As soon as he was gone, the alcohol in Bex's stomach came up. She coughed, her body racking with dry heaves. Her eyes, nose, and throat burned. When she was finished, she stood up shakily.

Bowie took her in his strong arms, and her tears came, running in streams down her cheeks. "You're safe now, Bex," he whispered, stroking her back. "I'm here."

"I was so scared," she managed to choke out. "I thought he was gonna-"

"Shh. It's okay now, baby," he reassured her. His own voice was choked with tears. "I won't let him hurt you again."

He took his sweatshirt off and wrapped it around her goosebumps-covered shoulders. Then, he hugged her again. "Let's get you home now."

He held her by the arm, helping her as she stumbled over tree roots and fallen branches, and they slowly made their way through the inky woods. When they reached his car, he opened the passenger door for her. She got in, shaking with cold and fear.

Bowie turned on the heat, letting the car warm up. He winced when he saw Bex's exposed forearms, where bruises were already forming.

"Thanks for helping me," she said quietly. She sniffled, pulling a dried leaf out of her hair.

"You don't have to thank me, Bex," he said. "I only did what any decent human being would do." He reached out and caressed her hand with his thumb.

"How did you know I needed help?" she asked him.

"I've been watching you all night," he confessed. "I saw him go into the woods after you did, and I guess some sixth sense kicked in. I've never trusted that guy."

"Thank you," she hiccuped.

"Bex," he sighed. "What are you doing going out with that loser and getting wasted? That's not you." His jaw was tight with tension.

Her chin trembled. "I only went out with him because _you_ dumped me for no reason. And I drank because I couldn't stand seeing you with your new girlfriend."

He sighed again. "First of all, _you_ cheated on _me_. Second of all, she's _not_ my girlfriend. I only went out with her to make you jealous."

"What?" she cried, defensively. "I _never_ cheated on you! I would _never!_ I hate Joel. I only went out with him to make _you_ jealous."

"That's not what your mom told me," Bowie said quietly.

"What? My mom? What does she have to do with this?"

"Your mom told me you were seeing someone else," he told her. "What am I supposed to think?"

Bex's stomach seized, but there was nothing left to come up. "My mom told you that?"

"I came to your house last week looking for you, and that's what she said." Tears filled his eyes. "I was hurt, and I thought if I went out with Hayley, you'd want me back."

Suddenly, painfully, it all clicked. "I never _stopped_ wanting you," Bex told him. "My mother lied to keep us apart. I love you, Bowie. I'm miserable without you." Her face crumpled. "How could she do this to me? My own mom?"

"I've been miserable too," Bowie admitted. "I should have just talked to you. I never meant for you to get hurt tonight. I'm so stupid."

"You didn't know this was going to happen," Bex told him, placing her hand on his arm. "It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either," he said. He combed his fingers through his hair. "I love you so much, Bex. All I want is to go back to the way things used to be, and be your boyfriend again. I miss you."

"I miss you too," she said. "Could we just forget this happened? Please?"

He reached out to touch her cheek, smoothing her hair back from her face. "Nothing would make me happier."

He leaned in, but Bex pulled away before their lips met. "My breath!"

Bowie laughed. "I don't care, Bex. I just want to kiss you."

She pulled a little tin out of her purse. "It's okay. I have mints." She popped one in her mouth.

Bowie kissed the tip of her nose, then pulled her in and kissed her on the mouth. "I love you so much," he murmured. "I'm never going to let you go again, Bex. I swear it. I can't imagine my life without you anymore."

She gave him a few more soft kisses. "I feel exactly the same way."

He smiled against her lips, and drew her close to his chest, tucking her under his arm. They stayed like that for several long moments, before Bowie glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "It's getting late. You don't want to miss your curfew," he whispered, stroking her back.

"I'm not ready to go yet," she said, tightening her embrace.

"I don't want you to get in any more trouble," he reasoned.

She heaved a trembling sigh. "I'm afraid to go home." Her eyes stung. "I've been drinking, I smell like beer, and I'm not with Joel. My mother is going to kill me."

"I can explain what happened to her," he offered. "I'll tell her you didn't do anything wrong."

"She doesn't want me with you," Bex reminded him. "She went through enough trouble to break us up."

"You're right," he nodded. "I guess we could get some coffee or something first." He started the car.

When they reached town, he pulled into a convenience store. "Will you be okay for a minute? I'll just run in."

"I'll be fine," she promised.

A few minutes later, he returned with coffee and sandwiches. "Eat this," he said, handing her a sandwich. "It'll make you feel better."

Bex took a long sip of her coffee, then peeled the plastic wrap off her food.

"Why does your mom hate me so much?" Bowie finally asked her, sadly. "What did I do?"

Bex swallowed a bite of her sandwich. "She doesn't hate you specifically. She hates all boys."

"But she let you go out with Joel," he pointed out, blowing on his steaming coffee.

Bex nodded. "I guess she thought he was safe, since he saw me in diapers or whatever. Our moms know each other from work. I've known him forever." More likely, she realized, Celia had let her go out with Joel to assuage her own guilt about what she did. And to create more distance between her and Bowie.

"Was he always a jackass?"

She nodded again. "Yup." She picked at her sandwich, her appetite gone. There was still something unsaid, that she needed to get off her chest. "Hey Bowie?"

"Yeah?"

"It's not true what people say about me," she told him softly. "I just want you to know that."

"I know, Bex," he said. "You don't have to explain."

She shook her head. "I'm not a slut. I don't sleep around, or do those things people say I do. You're the only boyfriend I've ever had." Reluctantly, she told him the true story about the 7th grade picnic. He listened quietly, holding her hand. He was a good listener. That was something she'd always loved about him.

When she was finished, he squeezed her fingers lightly. "I'm sorry I said what I said the other day, baby. I was just hurt, and I wanted to hurt you back. I know you're a good person. I've always known it." He looked up at her. "I'd do anything to take it back."

She leaned across the seat and hugged him. "I forgive you, Bowie."

He looked at the clock again, as he petted her hair. "It's late. We should really get going."

"I don't want to go home," she frowned. "I'm scared."

"Maybe you can slip in without your mom knowing and get cleaned up?" he said. "Maybe she'll already be in bed when you get home?"

"Maybe."

"It's be okay," he said. "You'll see."

"Okay," she relented. There was nothing else to do now. She had to face whatever was coming.

* * *

They drove in silence until they reached Bex's street. Bowie parked half a block away, and they walked to her backdoor. The house was dark and silent. Maybe her parents _were_ asleep? She hoped so. Her curfew had come and gone.

"Talk to you tomorrow?" Bowie whispered, cupping her chin in his hand.

"Of course," she smiled. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss.

"You'd better get inside," he said quietly. He gave her one more tender kiss. "I love you, Bex."

"I love you too, Bowie."

She watched him leave, then took her shoes off. Holding them in one hand, she took out her key and unlocked the door. She was shutting it quietly when the kitchen light flipped on, blinding her. She turned to see Celia standing there in her bathrobe.

"You have some explaining to do, Rebecca."

"I'm like twenty minutes late!" Bex cried. "I've had a rough night, okay? Give me a break."

Celia sniffed the air, and studied her daughter's eyes. "You've been drinking! You've been with that _boy_ , haven't you?"

"Stop it, mom," Bex pleaded. "Please."

"I told you to stay away from him!" Celia went on. "I let you go out with a nice, decent boy, and you pull this?"

"Mom!" Bex shouted. "Do you want to see what your 'nice, decent boy' did to me?" She pulled up her torn sleeves to reveal the ugly bruises Joel had given her. "Take a look at this."

Celia's eyes widened, and her hand went to her mouth. "What happened?"

Bex's eyes burned, and her head felt thick. "Joel was drunk, and he got a little rough with me, okay?"

"Did he-" Celia's voice trembled. "Did he force himself on you?"

"No," Bex said. "But he tried. And he would have, if Bowie hadn't pulled him off me. _He's_ the reason I got home safe tonight. He saved me. Not that you would ever be grateful. I know what you did, mom, and I'm _pissed."_

"I was only trying to protect you, Rebecca," Celia pleaded.

Bex squeezed her eyes shut, as tears leaked out. Her head pounded somewhere deep inside."How could you do this to me, mom? You know how I feel about Bowie! He would never hurt me. We're in love."

She took a gasping breath. "The worst part is, I thought you and I were actually bonding the other day. I thought you were being nice to me because you love me. I should have known you were just looking out for yourself."

 _"Rebecca-"_ Celia's dark eyes shone with tears.

"Save it, mom. I don't know if I can ever forgive you for this. Whatever. I'm going to bed. My head is killing me."

She turned away, then paused. "And your plan didn't work, by the way. Bowie and I love each other more than ever now."

She stalked off to her room, leaving her mother behind, and slammed the door behind her. Then, she put on her pajamas and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her head.

"Rebecca?" Her mom came into the room without knocking.

"Mom!" Bex groaned. "I told you I want to be alone. I do. Not. Want. To talk to you."

"You don't have to talk," Celia said quietly. "I brought you this." She set a tray on Bex's nightstand. It held a glass of water and some Tylenol, as well as some dry crackers. "The Tylenol and water will help your headache," she told her daughter. "The crackers will soak up some of the alcohol."

She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I do love you," she said, in barely a whisper. "And I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Bex peeked out from under her blanket, just a little, but stayed silent.

"I just want to keep you safe," Celia went on. "I did things that I regret when I was your age. I just want to keep you from making the same mistakes."

Her mother paused. "I failed you this time," she said. "I didn't keep you safe. I put you in danger. I'm very, very grateful that Bowie was there to protect you. And I'm going to tell him that, and thank him."

This was too much for Bex. She moved the blanket a way from her face. "Really?"

"Really," Celia nodded. "You're my only child, Rebecca. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. It's my worst nightmare, that you go out some night and never come home. That's- that's why I hold on so tight."

"But you can't keep me locked up forever," Bex told her. "I'm growing up."

"I know," her mom said. "But it's hard to let go, and know that I can't always be there to make sure you're safe."

"Maybe you could just trust me to make good choices?" Bex offered. "I know I don't have a great record, but maybe if I didn't have to sneak around, I could go out and come home by my curfew, and I could check in with you if I'm going to be late. Couldn't we try that?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking," Celia told her. She took a deep breath. "I still think you're too young to be in such an exclusive relationship, but I suppose Bowie has proven he can be trusted with you. So if you want to see him, you have my permission."

"Really?" Bex sat up a little, but her headache pushed her back down.

"Shh, don't try to get up," her mom said, patting her arm. "Yes, I mean it. But you're on probation. And if your grades aren't up by your next report card, it's over. Does that sound fair?"

"Yeah," Bex nodded. "Thank you, mom. And I'm sorry for the things I said."

"It's alright now," Celia told her. "Get some sleep. You're going to have a rough day tomorrow, when that alcohol really catches up with you." She leaned down and kissed Bex's forehead. "I love you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Bex said. "I love you too."


	10. Chapter 10 Take My Whole Life, Too

Chapter 10. Take My Whole Life, Too

 _Warning: this chapter contains some mild smut, read at your own risk_

 **December 2003**

Bex rummaged through her closet, flipping through the hangers. "Man, I have a lot of black clothes," she said to herself, under her breath.

"I agree."

She jumped. "Mom! You scared the crap out of me," she cried, turning around.

"Sorry," Celia said from the doorway. "I just don't think it would kill you to add some color to your wardrobe." She came into the room. "What are you looking for?" She looked around the room. Clothes were strewn everywhere, heaped on the bed, and spilling out of the dresser.

"I'm trying to find something to wear to the Winter dance," Bex explained without looking up. The high school always held a dance the night before winter break began. She'd never gone before, but this year, Bowie had talked her into it. They were in the twelfth grade now. They'd been dating exclusively for over a year, and everything was great.

She never really saw Joel again after the incident at the party the year before. He'd transferred schools not too long after that, and his mother went to work for another agency. What happened had effectively ended Celia and Mrs. Tan's friendship- Joel's mom had blamed Bex for what had happened, creating a rift between them. Bex was just happy he was gone, and life went on.

"Well, you can't wear anything in here," Celia told her, studying the contents of Bex's closet. She expressed her wish for her daughter to dress nicer often. But all the young girl seemed interested in was dressing like those rockers she listened to on the radio.

"I don't see why I can't just wear jeans," Bex sighed. "It's semi-formal. Doesn't that mean _part_ of it can be casual?"

"You're not wearing jeans, Rebecca," Celia said. "You'll look ridiculous with all the other girls wearing dresses." She began picking up her daughter's discarded clothing and putting them back on their hangers.

"I hate dresses," Bex frowned, chewing her lip. "But maybe I can borrow something from Emily."

"Emily is a head shorter than you," her mom reminded her. "No. You should buy something."

"Really?" Bex asked, surprised.

"Sure," Celia said. "Let me get my purse." She left the room and returned with her bag. "Here. Take this," she said, handing her some cash. "And pick out something tasteful," she reminded her. "Nothing skin tight or short."

"I guess that rules out the showgirl costume I've had my eye on," Bex teased.

Celia rolled her eyes. "Funny."

"Looks like I'm going shopping," Bex said.

* * *

Bex reached behind her back for her zipper. She pulled it up, and straightened her new dress. It wasn't _new_ , new, but it was new to her. She'd found it in the thrift shop, and had fallen in love. Made of red lace, it was her lucky color, and it was just her size. And it fell modestly just above her knees, so Celia would have to approve.

She straightened it, modeling it in front of her mirror.

"Rebecca!" Celia called from the hallway. "Bowie's here. Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah, mom," Bex called back. "One sec."

Her mom walked into her room uninvited, as she always did. Her eyes widened. "Rebecca. You look lovely." She reached out to touch the short cap sleeve of the dress. "Where did you buy this?"

"Nine Lives, that thrift store in town," Bex replied, pulling on her shoes. Her dress was so inexpensive, she'd also been able to buy some black heels.

Celia wrinkled her nose. "You washed it, I hope."

Bex rolled her eyes. "No mom. In fact, I made sure it was extra dirty before I bought it."

"Don't be smart," her mother scolded. "You're not out the door yet."

"Sorry," Bex apologized, not about to lose her chance to go to the dance. She and Celia got along better these days. But they occasionally fell back into old habits. They were so different, it seemed likely they'd always butt heads. "Yes, I washed it," she assured her.

Celia studied her daughter's image one last time. "I have just the thing to go with this. Wait here."

When Celia returned, she was holding a pair of gold earrings, set with red stones. "I can't believe I'm trusting you with these," she sighed. "They were a gift from your father when we were dating, and they mean a great deal to me. But I was wondering if you would like to wear them tonight."

Bex looked down, into her mom's cupped hand, touched. "Mom. Those are beautiful. Thank you." She took them, and put them on. "How do they look?"

"Stunning," Celia told her. "And they better come home that way."

"They will, mom," she promised. When would her mother ever trust her? She wasn't a baby anymore. "I'll guard them with my life."

"You better get downstairs," Celia said. "You don't want to keep Bowie waiting too long."

Bex nodded, and headed to the staircase. She walked down slowly, not yet confident in her new heels. When she reached the bottom, she saw Bowie standing there with her dad.

"Bex," he breathed. "Wow. You look great."

"So do you," she smiled. He _did_ look nice in a dress shirt and tie. She'd never seen him dressed up before. She could tell that even her mother was impressed by his appearance.

"You really do look beautiful, sweetheart," Ham said. He turned to Bowie. "You take good care of my little girl, young man," he said in half-joking sternness.

"I will, Ham," he promised. "I mean, Mr. Mack." He looked to Celia when he spoke, Bex noticed, rather than her father. It was adorable how nervous her parents still made him.

"And take good care of my earrings," Celia reminded her daughter. She looked to Bowie. "Have her home by eleven."

"I will," he assured her. He reached for Bex's hand. "You ready?"

She nodded, and he led her to his car. "Your carriage awaits, m'lady," he said grandly, opening the passenger door for her.

Bex's eyes widened. "How did you know I've always wanted to do that?"

"Do what?" he asked her.

"Ride in a horse-drawn carriage," she told him. "Like a princess." It had been a secret wish of hers since she was a little girl, one that she still held on to, even though she was old enough to know that fairy tales weren't real.

Bowie smiled. "I'll take you on one someday."

"Promise?"

He winked. "Cross my heart, princess."

* * *

Bex and Bowie walked hand-in-hand into the school gym. The decorations were as cheesy as Bex expected them to be. Crepe paper streamers. Balloons. A disco ball. But it was kind of pretty, in a way. It definitely didn't look like the same gym she hated during the week.

"Do you want to dance?" Bowie asked, taking her jacket and hanging it up for her.

"Sure," Bex said. "That would be great." She wasn't a great dancer, but Bowie made it easy. He took her in his arms, even though the music playing wasn't a slow song, and he held her close, and never let her go. She lost count of how many songs they danced to. Really, she lost track of everything going on around her. When she and Bowie were together, it was like they existed in their own little world.

An hour into the dance, one of Bowie's band mates approached them, and took Bowie aside. Bex couldn't hear what they were saying over the music.

Finally, he turned back to her. "The guys want to play a few songs," he said, apologetically. "They asked me to jam with them." He gave her an unsure look. She knew he was torn between wanting to stay with her, and wanting to play his music.

"It's okay," she smiled. "Go ahead." She knew how much he loved being on stage, and she never wanted to hold him back from playing.

"You sure?" he asked her.

"Yes," she sighed, pretending to shoo him away. "Go."

"Let me just grab my guitar from my trunk," he said. He leaned down and kissed Bex. "I love you," he told her. "Save the last dance for me?"

"There's no one else I'd want to dance with," she told him, giving his hand a squeeze.

She watched Bowie walk away, feeling a little lonely, even though she was happy for him. She wandered over to the refreshment table, and poured herself a cup of punch.

"Hi, Bex."

Bex looked up to Ms. Fisher, her photography teacher. "Hey," she smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Chaperone duty," Ms. Fisher told her, holding up her badge. "Are you having a good time? You look like you're having fun out there."

"Yeah," Bex nodded. "Dances aren't really my thing, but I'm having a good time."

"I like your dress," her teacher told her, as she straightened a stack of napkins. "It's very pretty."

"I like your outfit too," Bex replied. The young woman was dressed in all black. It was an outfit she would wear, herself. "Hey, Ms. Fisher?" she asked tentatively. "Can I ask you a weird question?"

"Sure," the teacher laughed. "Although I don't know if I can answer."

"Do you ride a motorcycle?" Bex asked her. "I always see a red one in the parking lot. I thought it might be yours…"

"It is mine," Ms. Fisher nodded. "How did you know?"

Bex shrugged. "Just a guess. I have a motorcycle too, but it isn't as cool as yours." She'd finally save enough to buy a used one recently, to her mother's horror. "You're like the coolest adult I know," she confided.

Ms. Fisher laughed again. "Thank you, Bex. That means a lot coming from you."

Just then, Bowie's band gathered on stage and introduced themselves.

"Isn't that your boyfriend?" the teacher asked Bex quietly, pointing to the stage.

She nodded. "Yeah." They watched as the band began to play. Bowie's smile was huge. It lit up his whole face. He looked so happy, she couldn't help but grin herself.

"He's really good."

Bex smiled proudly. "I know."

"Oh, to be young and in love again," Ms. Fisher sighed. She turned her attention to a couple dancing several feet away. "Excuse me, honey." She hurried off. "You two, hands above the waist!"

Bex laughed to herself, and went off to find her friends.

* * *

Finally, it was time for the last dance. As promised, Bowie left the stage and found Bex. "May I have this dance?" he asked her.

"Of course you may," she said, accepting his hand, as he led her back out to the dance floor.

Bex wrapped her arms around his neck, and he held her, his hand on the small of her back. The music started to play. She immediately recognized the opening notes. "Bowie," she breathed. "It's our song."

He smiled. "Yeah, I may have requested it."

Tears filled Bex's eyes. She lay her head on his shoulder, as they slowly moved to the music. Bowie tenderly kissed her hairline, brushing his stubbly chin against her cheek. She tucked her head in the hollow his neck, as he softly sang along with the music.

"Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can't help falling in love with you…" His beautiful voice drifted over her, low enough for only her to hear.

The song was over before Bex knew it. She knew it had to end sometime, but when it did, she was still disappointed.

"What's wrong?" Bowie asked her, stroking her hair. "You look sad."

"I don't want tonight to be over yet," she admitted, holding him a little tighter. "I want to stay here with you."

"Me too," he nodded.

"I wish we could make it last longer."

Bowie gazed into the distance, thoughtfully. "Maybe we can?"

"What do you mean?"

"My parents are out of town this weekend," he told her. "And there's no school tomorrow. You could spend the night."

* * *

Bex pressed her lips to Bowie's bare chest, as he petted her hair, combing his fingers through it. He reached down to stroke her through her panties.

She couldn't believe she was about to spend the night with him. Emily hadn't been happy about covering for them again- especially when Celia made her confirm over the phone that Bex was _really_ staying over at her house; she would always be just a little scared of Mrs. Mack. But she finally, reluctantly gave in. And now, Bex found herself half-naked in Bowie's bed.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked softly.

Bex nodded. "What is it?"

"I'm a virgin," he confessed, a blush rising to his cheeks.

"So am I," she admitted. "There's nothing wrong with that." She ran her thumb down the stubble on his jawline, looking deep into his eyes.

"I've been saving myself for the right girl," he told her. His lips found hers once again. "I love you so much, Bex. I have no doubt in my mind that you're the one. And I really want to be with you."

"I love you too, Bowie." Her breath hitched in her throat as he kissed her neck. He ran his hand down the side of her body, caressing her hip. "And I want you too." She did, more than she'd ever wanted anything.

They continued to touch and kiss, frantically removing the last few pieces of clothing that separated them, until they were naked before each other. Bex had seen Bowie naked before, and he'd seen her. They'd fooled around plenty of times, coming close to going all the way, but never getting past third base. But seeing his nude body still both intimidated Bex and turned her on.

Her pulse quickened as her sprinkled soft kisses over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. The further they went, the more she ached to connect with him. She wrapped her body around his, pulling him closer. Just when she thought she'd explode, Bowie whispered close to her ear, "are you sure you want to do this?"

She nodded feverishly. She had no real qualms about losing her virginity; she'd just never met anyone she wanted to lose it to, until Bowie. She thought it was hopelessly romantic that they were about to give themselves to one another. For a moment, though, her mother slipped into her thoughts. She'd kill her if she knew what she was doing- or _about_ to do. But Bex pushed thoughts of her mom away. It wasn't as if her mother would ever find out. "I'm sure," she whispered back. "I'm ready."

Bowie nodded and moved over her, spreading her legs. He looked into her eyes. She nodded again. Then suddenly, his expression changed from bliss to panic.

"What's wrong?" she mumbled.

"I don't have a condom," he muttered sheepishly. "Are you on the pill?"

"No," she admitted. Asking her parents for birth control would be akin to signing her death warrant. The idea was almost laughable.

"Do you still want to do it?" he asked her.

She did. She wanted him more than anything. "Do you think you can pull out in time?"

"I think so," he breathed.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to kiss him. "Make love to me, Bowie," she whispered against his lips.

He nodded and positioned himself. And then, with the painful sting of tearing tissue, he was inside her. It hurt so bad, she wanted to scream. But at the same time, it felt so good, just to be so close to Bowie.

When he awkwardly began to move, she sucked in her breath, sharply.

It was over too soon. She came with a shuddering sigh, her toes curling, before she'd even gotten to fully enjoy it. Bowie came seconds later, collapsing beside her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, tenderly stroking her damp hair.

"Bex, that was amazing," he said, breathing heavily.

She pressed her forehead against his, smiling. "I think I love you right now more than I've ever loved anything."

* * *

The next morning, Bex awoke wrapped in Bowie's arms. She felt warm, and safe, and loved. Bowie stirred, stretching out beside her, and she curled up against him.

"Good morning, beautiful," he whispered.

"Good morning," she said, nuzzling his cheek.

Bowie rubbed her arm, drawing her closer. She closed her eyes, laying her head on his chest. After a few minutes, he broke the peaceful silence."I guess we should get up," he said. "I don't want to, but I know you probably have to get home soon."

"I'd stay right here with you forever if I could."

Bowie kissed her temple softly. "Last night was perfect," he told her, circling the tip of her breast with his fingertip. "I'll never forget it."

"Me either," she smiled.

"I'll make sure I have condoms next time," he told her. "I mean, if you want there to be a next time."

"Of course there's going to be a next time." She brushed her lips against his neck. "I love you. And I loved finally being with you."

"I love you too, baby," he told her, giving her one more kiss. He sat up and started gathering his discarded clothes from the floor.

Bex reluctantly forced herself to climb out of bed, ignoring the dull ache between her legs. She looked down at the mattress to see a small, butterfly-shaped bloodstain on the white sheet. It made what they'd done all the more real. She wasn't a child anymore. She was a woman.

"I ruined your bed," she fretted.

Bowie shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it." He tore the sheet from the mattress and stuffed it in his hamper. Then, he pulled her into a hug. "How about we get dressed, and I make us some breakfast?"

Bex raised an eyebrow. "You cook?"

"I dabble," he told her. "I make pretty good omelettes."

"I'm intrigued," Bex teased. "Is it okay if I take a shower?"

"Go for it," he nodded, planting a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be down in the kitchen."

* * *

Bex wrapped Bowie's bathrobe around herself, tying the belt. She combed her fingers through her damp hair, and went downstairs. Bowie stood at the stove, wearing his mom's ruffled apron and singing to the radio. Bex stifled a giggle as she went up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Hey, cutie."

"Hey, yourself," Bowie said, turning around to kiss her cheek. "You ready to eat?"

She nodded, looking down at the skillet. "That looks good. And it smells edible."

Bowie laughed. "You're skeptical now, but I may just impress you." He grabbed some plates and flipped the omelettes onto them, then brought them to the table.

Bex took a tentative bite. "Bowie, this is delicious," she praised. He never ceased to amaze her.

He smiled, blushing. "Told you so."

She sighed playfully. "I _am_ impressed."

They ate together in companionable silence, not needing words.

"This is nice," Bowie said, suddenly.

"It is," Bex nodded. She couldn't help but smile.

"This must be what it's like to…" His voice trailed off.

"What?" she asked, studying him.

"I was just thinking, this must be what it's like to live together," he said. "You know, waking up together, eating breakfast, talking."

"Can you see us like that someday?" she asked him, curious. She knew Bowie was a romantic at heart, but he'd never seemed like the domestic type to her before.

He nodded, and reached across the table for her hand. "I mean, yeah. We love each other, and I _know_ I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can see us getting married after we graduate. Can't you?"

"I can," Bex admitted, smiling shyly. She pictured herself and Bowie living in a house just like his, happy and madly in love. "I bet our kids would be cute."

"Kids?" Bowie laughed.

"I'd never name them a long, prissy name like _Rebecca_ though," she told him. "I'd make sure they had cool names." She'd never yell at them either, or make them feel like they were a disappointment.

She then noticed the unsure expression on Bowie's face. "What?"

"I just can't really picture us as parents," He admitted, picking at his food.

Bex blushed. "Don't you want to have kids?" Children had always been a given. She'd never really thought much about having kids of her own, but wasn't that what married couples did?

He shrugged. "I don't know. You know how I feel about little kids, Bex. They're annoying. And messy."

"But you might want them _someday_ ," she offered. She honestly had a hard time picturing herself as a mother too. Just the thought of it scared her. But when she was older, she might feel differently.

"It's just that I'm going to be a musician," Bowie reminded her. "We'll be on the road, traveling all over the world."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Bex said, pushing her doubts out of her mind. After all, _she'd_ been the one who'd told Bowie her one dream in life was to get out of Shadyside and see the world. And she still wanted that, very much. Her whole life, she'd dreamed of freedom and independence. But still… she didn't want to write off the idea of being a mom completely.

Bowie pulled her into his arms, softening. "Hey, don't worry. If you want a kid someday, we'll have one."

"Thanks," Bex smiled. She knew he didn't really mean it, but she didn't want to ruin the morning by arguing about something they wouldn't have to worry about for years. She stood up. "I guess I better get dressed, and get my stuff together. I have to get to Emily's house before my mom comes to pick me up."

"I'll help you," Bowie said, as he put their plates in the sink.

They went up to Bowie's room, and Bex found her clothes. She peeled off the robe, aware that he was in the room with her. Goosebumps rose on her skin. She looked up, and their eyes met in silent communication. Before she knew it, they were standing before each other. Bowie placed his hands on her hips, looking into her eyes. They kissed deeply. She gave him a small nod. He lifted her up, and carried her back to his bed.


	11. Chapter 11 One Month

Chapter 11. One Month

"Bex!" Emily cried. "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry," Bex apologized sheepishly. "I meant to get here sooner. I just lost track of time." She looked down at the grease-stained paper bag in her hand and gave her friend a weak smile. "I brought donuts?"

Emily rolled her green eyes. "You're lucky I love you." She took a glazed donut from the bag. "But I'm not about to face the wrath of Celia alone. So get your butt in here."

Bex ducked into the Millers' kitchen and shrugged out of her jacket. "Can I borrow some clothes?" She had put her dress back on at Bowie's, but she couldn't let her mom see her in it when she came to pick her up.

"Help yourself," Emily said.

Bex went to her friend's room and took an old pair of sweatpants and a t shirt that may have been hers in the first place out of the dresser.

"So, how was your night, anyway?" Emily asked, flopping down on her bed.

"It was good," Bex said mysteriously, as she pulled the shirt over her head.

"How good?" Her friend asked, narrowing her eyes playfully.

Bex stretched out beside her and took a sprinkle donut out of the bag. "We had sex," she said. "Last night. And this morning."

 _"Bex!"_ Emily cried, her eyes widening in surprise. "Were you at least safe?"

Bex held her hands up defensively. "We were safe. Don't worry."

Emily breathed a small, relieved sigh. "What was it like?"

"The first time was kind of weird," she admitted. "It hurt a lot. But it was really nice, feeling so close to Bowie. And he was really gentle. The second time was a lot more fun." She licked chocolate frosting from her fingertips. "I already can't wait to do it again." When she closed her eyes, she could still feel Bowie's hands on her bare skin, and his warm breath as he kissed her lips. She craved him.

"Just be careful," Emily pleaded. "Please, Bex."

"I already told you we were safe," Bex said. "Remember? Thirty seconds ago?"

"I didn't mean that," her friend said.

"What do you mean, then?" she asked, picking a sprinkle off her shirt.

Emily sighed reluctantly. "You know I like Bowie. He's a sweet guy, and he obviously really cares about you." She paused uncomfortably. "But it seems like he comes with a lot of drama. Sex is a big step, and he's hurt you before. I don't want you to end up getting your heart broken."

"Bowie's _not_ going to hurt me," Bex said, defensively. She rose, leaning on her elbow. "We're in love, and we both wanted to have sex. It was _my_ choice."

"I'm just looking out for you," Emily told her.

Bex's eyes stung. "Why are you trying to make this into something bad?"

Emily gave her a hurt look. "I'm not!" she said. "If you _do_ feel bad about it, maybe you weren't ready to do it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're not the most mature person," Emily pointed out.

"Neither are you!" Bex cried.

"I'm a lot more mature than you are!" Emily's brow creased, as it always did when she was angry.

Bex sat up, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're just jealous of my relationship with Bowie." She regretted her words as soon as she said them. Especially when she saw her friend's face fall. "Em, I'm sorry..." she apologized.

"Save it," Emily snapped. "You're not sorry! You just want me to forgive you so you can keep taking advantage of me."

Bex opened her mouth to protest, as Emily's doorbell rang.

"Your mom's here," Emily told her. "I think it's time for you to go."

Bex turned and left the room. She hurried to the door and let her mom in. "Hey, mom." She cringed as her mom looked at her carefully, frowning. Could she tell that she wasn't a virgin anymore? Had something changed about her? "Is everything okay?" she finally asked.

"I'm just wondering why you're only wearing one earring," Celia told her. "When you specifically promised me you would take care of them and return them to me in the condition they left in."

Bex touched her earlobes and her heart dropped. It was true. One of her mom's earrings were gone. She hadn't even felt it fall off. "Umm..."

"Don't _'umm_ ' me," Celia said impatiently. "Go look for it. It must be in Emily's room, right?"

"Right," Bex stuttered. She hurried back to Emily's room.

Emily gave her a dark look. "What?"

"My mom's earring," Bex said, as she frantically began searching the floor. "It's lost. Help me find it, Em, please." Tears stung her eyes. "My mom will kill me if I don't find it."

Emily sighed with annoyance, but she did slide off the bed, and began combing the rug. "Did you have it when you left the dance?"

"I don't know," Bex fretted. "I think so." She searched her memory. "Yes, I did," she whispered. "I took them out before I took a shower at Bowie's this morning."

"Did you have both of them when you left his house?"

Her face fell. "I can't remember." Her heart thudded with panic. What if she had lost the earring at Bowie's house? How would she ever explain that to her mom? "No," she said. "It has to be _here_. It _has_ to."

She stood up and began tearing the bedding off Emily's bed, shaking it out.

"Rebecca!" Celia called from the other room. "Are you coming?"

"Just a minute, mom!" Bex called back. She combed her fingers through her hair, racking her brain, trying to retrace her steps.

"Bex!" Emily hissed. She held her hand out. Celia's earring sparkled in her open palm.

"Oh my gosh!" Bex breathed, grabbing the earring. "Where did you find it?"

"It was stuck in your dress," Emily explained. "It must have got caught when you changed this morning."

Bex was so relieved, she could cry. "Thanks for finding it."

"Looks like I saved your ass again," Emily said. "You were really lucky this time."

Bex reached out to hug her friend, but the other girl held back. She gave her a hurt look.

"I helped you out again this time," Emily said. "But that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."

* * *

December turned to January, and Bex and Emily's friendship remained strained. They barely spoke to each other, and when they did, it was awkward. Bex hated fighting with her best friend, but it had become a game of chicken. Neither of them wanted to be the first to apologize and admit they were wrong, and the longer this went on, it seemed less and less likely that things would ever be the same between them.

As it was, Bex spent more and more time with Bowie. They spent almost every day after school together, shut away from from the world in his room. Sometimes they listened to music. Rarely, they studied. Often, they had sex. Her relationship with him seemed like the only thing in her life that was going perfectly. She was only truly happy when they were together.

She woke up late one snowy Saturday morning, a few weeks after the dance, feeling miserable. Her head was stuffed up, and her stomach felt sick. She looked in the mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes shadowed with dark circles.

She dragged herself to the bathroom, and yanked her underwear down to pee. She groaned when she saw that she'd gotten her period. "Great," she muttered, cursing under her breath. No wonder she felt so crappy.

She took a bottle of Midol from the medicine cabinet and dumped two pills in her hand, then swallowed them with a paper cup of water. Then, she went down to breakfast.

* * *

"What's wrong with you?" Her mother asked when she saw the downcast look on her face.

"Nothing," she mumbled, pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

"Are you sick?" Celia frowned.

"No, I'm not sick," she replied, annoyed. "If you must know, I have PMS."

"You don't need to take an attitude with me," Celia told her. "I was only asking."

"Sorry," she sighed. She stirred her muesli to mush, her appetite gone. At that moment, she would have given anything for regular, sugar-frosted cereal. Or anything sweet, really. She pushed her unfinished bowl away. "Is it okay if I go out for a while?"

"Where are you going?" her mom asked.

"I thought I'd go over to Bowie's," she replied. "I need some air."

"I should have guessed," Celia said with a sigh.

"So, is it okay if I go?"

"I suppose so," her mother nodded. "Go ahead."

Bex hurried out the door before her mother could ask her any more questions.

* * *

The walk to Bowie's was brisk, but the cold air cleared her head a little. She arrived at his door and rang the bell. She took a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her nose, just as the door opened.

"Rebecca!" Cookie smiled. "Hi, sweetie!"

"Hi, Cookie," Bex said, as the older woman pulled her in for a hug. She could never stay in a bad mood around Bowie's mom. Cookie always greeted her so warmly, and she loved it. "Is Bowie home?"

"He's practicing with his band, sweetheart," Cookie explained. "But he should be home any minute. You're welcome to come in and wait."

"Thank you." Bex stepped over the threshold, and followed the older woman into the warm, cozy kitchen, that perpetually smelled of baked goods.

Bowie's mom looked at her and frowned with concern as she took her jacket off and hung it on the back of her chair. "Are you feeling alright, baby doll?" she asked. "You look like you're coming down with something." She placed her soft, cool hand on Bex's forehead. "You don't feel warm to me, but you're awfully pale."

"I'm fine," Bex promised her. "I'm just feeling a little under the weather today."

"You poor thing," Cookie fretted. "Can I make you something? Some tea with honey, maybe?"

Bex nodded. "That would be great. Thanks."

Cookie smiled. "I'll put the kettle on."

* * *

Bex was sipping tea and eating Cookie's delicious homemade blueberry muffins when Bowie came through the door, toting his guitar.

"Bex!" he said, surprised to see her. "Hey!"

"Hey," she smiled, standing up. "You're home! How was band practice?"

"It was a good," he told her. His voice sounded sincere, but there was a worried look in his eyes. "You want to come upstairs?"

"Sure!" She turned back to Cookie. "Thanks for the tea."

"No problem, honey," Cookie nodded. "If you need anything else, just let me know."

"I will," she smiled. She turned and followed Bowie through the house and up the garage stairs.

Once they were safely in his room, the door closed and locked, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, standing on her tiptoes. Bowie kissed her back, deeply, holding onto her a little longer than usual. Behind him, the snow fell in big flakes outside the window. But inside, in his arms, Bex felt warm and cozy.

Finally, Bowie let go. He turned away from her.

"Are you okay?" Bex asked him, a little bit hurt. "What's wrong?"

He stood in front of the window, gazing out, without answering her. His eyes seemed far away, and his soft lips were pursed thoughtfully.

"Bowie-" she said again. "You're scaring me."

"There's something I need to talk to you about," he said at last, in a quiet voice. "It's kind of hard."

Her head swam in a moment of panic. She turned, and began thumbing through his records, hardly daring to meet the serious, serious look in his eyes.

"Bex," Bowie said, turning her around. "Listen. This is important." He sighed. "I might be leaving soon..."

She stopped rifling through the album sleeves and turned back to him. She gave him a searching look. "I don't understand. Leaving? Where are you going?"

"The band and I had a meeting today. We're thinking of trying our luck in California," he told her. "We're going to get our demo out there, and see what happens."

"Oh." Her face fell. "Well, when are you coming back?"

"That's the thing," he said quietly, trying to avoid her eyes. "If I go, I'm not _coming_ back. At least not right away."

Bex's tongue felt paralyzed. Her whole world felt as if it were caving in, in one instant. "But..." she managed to get out. "I don't _want_ you to go."

"I know," he said. "But I have to. The guys in the band are older. I'm still in high school. You _know_ how hard I have to work to prove myself to them. If I don't go, they'll just replace me."

"But what about school?" she asked quietly. "What about graduation?"

"I don't need a diploma to be a musician," he said. "I feel like I'm wasting my time sitting in school when I have this great opportunity _now_. It might not come around again."

"But what about _me?"_ Her words hung in the air. She was almost sorry she'd asked, afraid of what his answer might be. Was she just a waste of time too?

He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "If there's anything that could keep me here, it's you," he said. "You _know_ that. I love you more than anything in the world, Bex." He paused. "I was actually hoping you would come with me."

"To California?" she said, her eyes widening. "I can't."

"Why not?" he asked her. "It's not like there's anything keeping you here, either."

"I just can't," she said again, her voice trembling. "My parents would never let me. You know that."

"So, don't tell them," he pleaded. "We'll just go. We can be on a bus to LA before they even find out. Please, Bex? You'd love California."

She shook her head. Her throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. "I _can't_ , Bowie. I can't hurt my dad like that." Her eyes welled with tears, as not just Ham, but Celia crossed her mind. She had her problems with her parents, but she loved them, and she wasn't ready to leave them. If she left, she knew their relationship would be damaged beyond repair. "I have to finish school. I'm only seventeen."

"I'm seventeen too," he reminded her. "And I'm ready for this now. I'm ready to start the second half of my life."

Suddenly, listening to him, Bex was more angry than sad. "How could you do this to me?" Everything they'd planned together ran through her mind.

"I don't even know for sure if this is going to happen yet," he told her. "Please, just don't get upset."

"How could I not get upset?" she asked him. "It sounds like you're planning to leave with or without me."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. "What do you want me to say?"

"Say you won't leave," she pleaded.

"Bex, that isn't fair. You know this is my dream."

"Well, my dream is that everyone I love doesn't stab me in the back!" she snapped. He _knew_ what a hard time she was having being in a fight with Emily. She needed him.

"Please, Bowie," she asked again. Tears threatened to spill over, but she refused to let them. "Say you won't go."

"I can't do that," he said softly, after a long moment of silence.

"I understand," Bex said, reaching for her coat.

"Bex, I'm not trying to hurt you," he said, stopping her. "I love you." He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "And if you really love me, you won't keep my from doing this."

Taken aback, Bex stared at him. She nodded slowly. "If you go," she said softly, "when are you leaving?"

He looked down. "In one month."

Bex's eyes blurred. She couldn't hold her tears back any longer. They rolled down her cheeks in hot rivers.

"Bex," Bowie sighed. "Don't cry. Please." He reached for her, to take her in his arms, but she pulled away from him.

"I have to go," she said. She pulled her coat on and raced out the door and down the stairs. She left the house without even saying goodbye to Cookie. Once she was out in the frigid air, she kept walking. She would have given anything to talk to Emily, but she didn't even have that anymore. Her mouth watered, and her stomach heaved. Putting her hand to her lips, she leaned down and threw up in the snow. When she was finished, she stood up, wiping her mouth. Her eyes and nose burned.

She never felt so alone.


	12. Chapter 12 Forever

Ch. 12 Forever

"You look like hell." Emily stood at her locker, regarding Bex curiously.

"Gee, thanks," Bex said sarcastically, even though she knew it was 'd barely slept the night before. The past month since Bowie had told her he might be leaving had flown by, much, much too fast. He hadn't really mentioned it again after the initial announcement. Bex had started to think that he'd forgotten about it, or changed his mind; made herself believe that he was staying with her. But then, the previous day, he dropped the bombshell. He was leaving on February 15th, the day after Valentine's Day. It was only two days away.

"Seriously, Bex. Are you okay?" Emily asked her, furrowing her brow. She searched her former friend's face carefully.

"I'm fine," Bex said. She'd woken up feeling sick, though. She'd been sick almost every day since Bowie told her his plans to go to LA, moody, her stomach constantly in knots.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, awkwardly. This was so wrong. Things had never been like this between her and Emily before. They'd had disagreements, but they never lasted this long. "So... how have you been?" She noticed Emily was wearing her hair differently, in a french braid. It looked nice.

"Fine," Emily told her. Her eyes darted down to her high tops. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Bex admitted humbly. She rubbed her tired eyes.

"So, what's been going on with you?" Emily asked her. She spoke in a detached way, as if Bex were just a casual acquaintance.

Bex shrugged. "Bowie's leaving. The day after tomorrow. He's going out to LA with his band."

"Oh." Emily said this tonelessly. "I'm really sorry. I know how important he is to you."

"That's kind of why I wanted to talk to you," Bex said. "I want to spend all the time with him I can before he goes. I think I could even convince him to stay! I know you're mad at me right now, but could you please cover for me one more time?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "I should've known." She turned back to her locker and started putting her things away.

"Please, Em," Bex pleaded. "If you do it this one time, I'll never ask you for anything again. _Please."_

The other girl slammed her locker. "Did it ever occur to you that _I_ might have plans for Valentine's Day?" She nodded knowingly when Bex didn't answer. "Of course not. Because everything always has to be about Bex."

"That's not true!" Bex cried defensively.

"Maybe it wasn't true before," Emily told her. "But you've changed since you met Bowie."

"I have not!" she argued. "Maybe you're the one who's changed?"

"We used to have so much fun together," Emily said shortly. "I miss the way things used to be. When's the last time we really hung out? The only times you even talk to me now are when you're asking me to lie to your parents for you."

"You know how my home life is!" Bex snapped. "Better than anyone! I didn't think you minded helping me. That's what friends are supposed to do."

 _"Real_ friends don't ditch each other for a boy! When you came up to talk to me just now, I actually thought you wanted to make up with me. But all you wanted was to use me, as usual. How do you think that makes _me_ feel?"

"Why are you treating me like this?" Bex asked her. She was on the verge of tears. "It might be my last night with Bowie. Can't you see how important this is to me?"

"I am so tired of hearing about Bowie!" Emily said. "I hope he _does_ leave!" Her cheeks were pink with anger. She opened the to-go coffee cup she was holding, and took a long sip. "Just go, Bex. I have nothing else to say to you."

Never one to let the other person have the last word, Bex began to speak. But as soon as the scent of Emily's coffee hit her nose, her stomach turned, a sour taste filling her mouth. "I have to go," she mumbled, hurrying away. She ducked into the first bathroom she found, and locked herself in the stall. She vomited hard. When she was finished, she went to the bathroom mirror and splashed some cold water on her face. She studied her reflection dully. She did look terrible. Something was very, very wrong.

* * *

Bex decided nothing was going to keep her from spending one last night with Bowie. No one could stop her from spending every moment she could with him. And if there was any chance in the world that she could convince him to stay, she was going to take it.

They went out for pizza on Valentine's night, and Bowie was quiet as they sat in the restaurant. Bex felt as if she were walking on eggshells the entire time, trying not to say or do anything to make him mention California. If he didn't talk about it, it wasn't true.

"I have something for you," he told her, breaking the silence. He took her hand from across the table and looked her in the eye.

Bex set her bread stick down. "What is it?"

He took a little velvet box out of his pocket and gave it to her. "Happy Valentine's day, baby."

She opened the small box and looked inside. It was a necklace; a fancy silver key with a heart-shaped handle. "Bowie, it's beautiful," she breathed. "Thank you."

"I wish I could have given you something more expensive," he admitted. "But I really hope you like it. It's because you have the key to my heart." A blush rose to his cheeks. "That sounded really cheesy, but it's true."

"I love it," she told him honestly. "I don't care how much it cost." She took it out of the box and fastened it around her neck. "How does it look?"

"Beautiful," he smiled. "You make everything so beautiful." His eyes shone, wet in the dim light of the restaurant.

"I'll never take it off," she promised, a bittersweet feeling overcoming her. "I love you so much, Bowie."

He reached for her hand again, tracing her knuckles with his thumb. "I'll love you forever, Bex."

She nodded, her heart lifting. "Forever."

* * *

Bowie paid the bill, and they left the restaurant holding hands. "Do you want me to take you home now?" he asked her, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"I don't want to go home," she said, moving closer to him. She lay her head against his shoulder "It's still Valentine's day, and the only place I want to be tonight is with you. All night."

Bowie smiled and tilted his head down to kiss her tenderly on the lips.

 _If he kisses me again, he's not leaving_ , she told herself. It was a little game she'd made up to get through the night, to convince herself that she wasn't about to lose him. She'd try to predict what he was about to do or say, and if she was right, she took it as a sign that he was staying.

Bowie drew her closer and kissed her again. Her heart thudded in her chest. "Lets go home," he said. He led her to the car and opened the door for her.

The drive to Bowie's house was silent. When they got there, he pulled into the driveway, and they went in through the garage, and up to his room. Bex set her purse down and took off her coat. She touched the necklace Bowie had given her, delicately. Then she went to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Bowie pulled her close, running his fingers through her hair and kissing her deeply.

 _"Bex-"_ he began, breaking their connection for a moment.

She ignored him, and pressed her lips to his neck, kissing him, suckling his skin. Bowie sucked his breath in sharply, closing his eyes. He ran his hands up and down her back, his body becoming rigid in her arms.

"Take me to bed," she whispered close to his ear.

Bowie scooped her up and lay her gently on his mattress. They made love until they fell asleep, exhausted in each other's arms.

* * *

Bex woke up feeling cold. She wrapped the covers tightly around her, drifting in and out of that half-sleep state. The night before had been perfect. She and Bowie had connected like never before, as if they were one soul in two bodies. Bex had no doubt in her mind that nothing could break them apart now.

Eyes closed, she felt for him next to her, but her hand grasped at nothing but the bed sheet. She heard some shuffling behind her, and rubbed her eyes, rolling over. Bowie was there, jamming clothes in a duffel bag.

"Bowie?"

He gave her a troubled, almost apologetic look. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I was hoping to be gone before you left," he said quietly. "I wrote you a letter. I was gonna leave it for you. I thought it would be easier for both of us that way."

She sat up, pulling the sheet around herself. "No. You're not leaving." She breathed through her nose, trying to hold back her disappointed tears.

"I am, Bex," he said sadly, but determined. "My bus will be leaving in 45 minutes."

"No-" she repeated in disbelief. _"No."_ She stood up, tripping over the trailing end of the sheet. "I thought... I thought you were staying now. What about last night? I thought that meant-."

"Last night was _amazing,"_ he told her, taking her hands in his and looking her in the eye. "I wish it never had to end, and I'll never forget it. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm going to California."

"But we _slept_ together." Her eyes stung, and she realized how stupid she sounded. They'd slept together before. Why should this one time change anything? But it _felt_ like it should.

"Bex, I thought last night was you saying goodbye," he told her. "I didn't know you thought it meant I wasn't going. I just thought it was too hard for you to talk about." He sighed deeply. "I tried to bring it up last night, but you wouldn't let me. You never take anything seriously."

Bex gathered her clothes and angrily began to pull them on, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "What about all our plans? You said you wanted to marry me."

"That was just talking... dreaming," Bowie said. "I don't know if I want to get married now. Maybe someday. But I haven't even gotten to experience life yet."

She balled her fists, frustrated, unable to believe what she was hearing. "I've never felt so used! After all I went through to be with you! I gave you my _virginity!_ Did you ever even really love me?"

"You _know_ I love you," he said, his voice thin with hurt. "I love you more than anything. We could try the long distance thing. This doesn't have to be the end."

"Then why does it _feel_ like the end?" she asked him. She left her tears unchecked. "I don't _want_ a long distance relationship. How would we even make it work? You'll meet someone else and forget all about me."

"Then maybe it's better if we aren't tied down right now?" he offered weakly. "And if we really are meant to be together, we'll find our way back to each other someday."

"I don't want to hear your Universe crap," she snapped. "Just go. Fuck every girl in California for all I care."

"Bex, you don't mean that," he said. "I don't want our last minutes together to be this way. Please. I love you."

"I hate you for doing this to me!" She took off her necklace and threw it at him. "Forever. What a joke!"

"I'm not trying to hurt you," Bowie told her. He brushed a tear away. "I thought you understood that. This is my dream. I thought you'd support me."

Bex stayed silent. She couldn't speak. If she did, she knew she'd break down.

"I have to get going," he said. "I said my goodbyes to my parents yesterday. It's the way my mom wanted it." He stuck his hands deep in his pockets. "Will you at least walk to the bus stop with me and see me off? _Please?"_

He picked up his guitar case and shouldered his duffel bag. With a sigh, Bex stood up and followed him down the stairs. They walked together toward Main Street, where the bus stop was. Dread rested heavily in Bex's stomach.

When they arrived at their destination, they stood uncomfortably, huddled close but not touching.

"Please, Bex," Bowie said again. The bus came slowly down the street. He looked back at it anxiously. "Say something." He glanced back at the bus as it rolled to a stop.

"You're not going to make it," Bex said.

Bowie turned around. "What?"

"You're not good enough," she told him. "Your band isn't going to make it. You're going to make a fool of yourself." Her words came out like poison. She intended to hurt him as badly as he was hurting her, but when she saw the palpable pain in Bowie's eyes, she immediately regretted her words.

"Screw you, Bex," Bowie finally said. "I offered to take you with me, but you said no."

Bex's eyes filled with tears all over again. She turned away, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hey, I didn't mean that," he said. He reached out to give her a hug, but she backed away. He sighed. "Take this, okay?" He handed her his letter in it's long envelope. "Don't open it until I'm gone. Everything I want to say to you is in it." When she wouldn't take it, he tucked it in her jacket pocket. "Can I at least kiss you goodbye?"

Bex still refused to look him in the eye. She tightened her lips.

The bus driver opened the storage compartment under the bus. "Please, Bex?" Bowie pleaded.

He waited a moment, then gave up. "I have to go. I'll call you when I get to LA," he said. "Okay?"

"Okay," she said quietly.

He gave her a long, regretful look. "Goodbye, Bex."

"Goodbye," she whispered through her tears. She watched him get on the bus, toting his guitar case. He looked back at her for a long moment, until the doors wheezed shut. And then, Bowie was gone, getting further away every second. Bex waved numbly. The bus never stopped. The doors never flew open, and he never ran through them, into her arms, to tell her he made a mistake, that he loved her and wouldn't leave her again. That was what was supposed to happen. It happened on every TV show, every movie. But it didn't happen this time.

Bex stood there long after Bowie's bus was out of sight.

* * *

Every step toward home hurt. It hurt to breath. It hurt to think. She let herself in the house. Her parents were sitting at the table.

"Where have you been?" her mother cried, rising to her feet. "We have been worried sick, young lady!"

"Out," Bex answered.

"You've been with that boy, haven't you?" Celia asked. "You spent the night with him!"

She stopped. "His name is Bowie, mom! _Bowie!_ And you never have to worry about him again, because he's gone. And I'm never going to see him again." Her eyes filled with tears. She ran up the stairs to her room and slammed the door.

Her closet door was open, the way she'd left it. A white garment bag hung inside, mocking her. She went to close her closet door, then stopped, and unzipped the top of the bag. It held her prom dress, a silvery blue vintage gown she'd bought at Nine Lives even though it was too early to plan for prom, because it was too perfect, and she'd never find another one like it. Now, it killed her to look at it. She took it off the rack, just wanting it out of her sight.

But once it was in her arms, she couldn't let it go. She sunk down onto the closet floor, gathering it in a ball in her lap, tracing the shimmery fabric and the crystal beads with her fingertip. Why had she yelled at Bowie the way she did? No wonder he left. She was supposed to be convincing him to stay, but all she'd managed to do was push him away, like she did with everyone. If he was gone, she was to blame. She thought she could be enough, but she wasn't. Why didn't she just kiss him goodbye?

Her elbow brushed against something in her pocket, and she remembered Bowie's letter. Slowly, she tore the envelope open. A photograph fell out in her lap. She picked it up with shaking hands. It was taken the summer before, at the fair. It showed the two of them, embracing, leaning in for a kiss. Along with it were three handwritten pages, on loose-leaf notebook paper. She unfolded them slowly and began to read. Her face crumpled as she took in his words. She buried her face in her gown, and cried.

* * *

A few days later, Bex sat down in front of the family computer, and logged on. It was all she could do to get out of bed. Since Bowie had left, she'd just been going through the motions. She spent her time either in school, or waiting for Bowie to call.

She stared at the screen for a long time, chewing her lower lip, trying to decide what exactly to search for. She was miserable. She was depressed. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and she was starting to think it was more than the pain of a broken heart. She was sick, and she didn't know what was wrong. And she couldn't go to her mom or dad, because the most troubling symptom was just too uncomfortable to talk about. Every few days, she woke up to find blood in her underwear. Just a few drops. Her stomach was bloated and crampy, as if she had PMS, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a normal period.

She was embarrassed, even though no one was there to see what she was doing, except the Google logo. The thing was, she didn't have a word for what was going on. Finally, she simply typed the word "bleeding."

All kinds of hits came up. Bleeding gums, hemorrhaging, gunshot wounds. She sighed. None of that was helpful. She scrolled down a little, when a word caught her eye. _Spotting_. She clicked on the link and skimmed through it. She realized then, that was the word she was looking for.

She did a new search, using the word. A whole new crop of links came up. She clicked on the first one. It took her to a medical website that listed the causes of spotting. There was menopause, which of course was unlikely. Cervical cancer (oh god, was she going to die?). Contraceptives could cause it, but she wasn't on any. Then, she came to the fourth common cause. Her head swam with panic. She closed her eyes to balance herself, feeling faint and hot.

She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was coming, then quickly typed in "signs of early pregnancy." She mouthed the list of symptoms silently as she read.

 _Spotting and crampin_ g. _Check._

 _Nausea and vomiting. Check._

 _Headaches. Check._

 _Fatigue, food cravings and aversions, and mood swings. Check, check, and double-check._

She turned off the computer. She didn't need to read anymore.


	13. Chapter 13 Two Pink Lines

Chapter 13. Two Pink Lines

Now that Bex didn't have any friends, she spent her lunch period holed away in the school's darkroom, developing depressing photos. In there, the loneliness didn't feel so lonely. The photography room became her safe haven, in a place where everything reminded her of Bowie, from the hallway lockers to the gym.

She still hadn't heard from him. It had been almost a week since he'd left. The day before, she'd asked her dad how many days it takes to drive from Shadyside to Los Angeles. Being who he was, her sat down with her, and took out a map to show her the distance. Accounting for stops, he said, two days was realistic. That meant that Bowie had had three days to call her. He promised he would. But nothing. Finally, she couldn't take the stress anymore, and she called _him_. It went straight to voicemail. She tried him several more times, and got the same. That morning, she'd tried calling him one last time. This time, she got a message that his mailbox was full.

The only bad thing about spending so much time in the darkroom was that the solitude of the place left her alone with her thoughts. As she bathed her photo in water, she thought of the inescapable mess she was in. She felt as if the weight of the world were on her shoulders, and she was crushing beneath it's pressure.

As she worked, the photograph blurred before her eyes, and she realized she was crying. Tears ran down her cheeks, leaving streaks in her makeup. She tried to brush them away with her forearm.

"Bex? Are you okay?"

She jumped. She'd almost forgotten Ms. Fisher was also in the room working, it had been so quiet. The teacher frowned at her with concern.

"I'm fine," she told her quickly, keeping her head down, unable to meet her teacher's eyes.

Ms. Fisher gave her a sympathetic look. "You haven't been yourself lately, Bex. I'm worried about you. Breakups are hard, honey." Everyone had heard about Bowie leaving by then. The teacher paused sadly. "If you're _not_ fine, and you ever need someone to talk to about anything at all, I'm here."

Bex chewed her lip, wondering if she could trust her teacher with her secret. Her instincts told her she could, and it would be a relief to have someone to confide in. But she was still hesitant. "How do I know you won't just tell my parents whatever I tell you?"

"You don't know," Ms. Fisher told her. "You just have to trust me. But I promise you, I wouldn't say anything to anyone, unless you or someone else is in danger. Then I wouldn't have a choice, because it's the law."

Bex leaned against the counter, feeling lightheaded. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead, she broke down. She tore her rubber gloves off, and threw them on the counter, covering her face with her hands. Until this point, she'd been completely numb. But now, she just couldn't take it any more. Her burden was too heavy.

Ms. Fisher handed her a paper towel to dry her tears. "Take your time. It's okay."

Bex accepted the paper towel gratefully. She breathed through her mouth, trying to calm herself. "I think I'm pregnant," she finally mumbled, once she was composed enough to speak.

"What?" her teacher asked.

"I think I'm pregnant," she repeated. Her face crumpled, and she started to cry again. "And I'm scared, and Bowie's gone, and I don't know where he is. I don't know what to do." She breathed shakily.

"Oh Bex," Ms. Fisher sighed. "Have you taken a test?"

She shook her head. "No. But my period's late, and I'm sick every morning. And I just feel... _different_ inside." Unconsciously, her fingertips brushed below her navel.

"Honey, you need to take a test and find out for sure," the young teacher said calmly. "If you are pregnant, you and the baby need medical attention."

"I can't buy a test," she fretted. "Everyone in this town knows me. People will talk, and it will get back to my parents, even if I'm not pregnant." She ran her hands through her hair. "My life is a mess. I don't know what to do. I'm so _stupid!_ How could I have let this happen?"

"Don't worry. It will be okay," Ms Fisher assured her. "And you are most certainly not stupid, Bex. You're just young, and you made a mistake. You may even be worrying for nothing. There's no sense in panicking until you take a test."

"I told you, I can't buy one," she said. Her hands shook.

There was a long moment of silence, then Ms. Fisher spoke up. "I want to help you, Bex. But if I do, I need your promise that you won't tell anyone. If you do, I could lose my job."

"I would never do anything to get you in trouble," Bex said sincerely. "I promise. You're my favorite teacher." Her nose was running. She wiped it with the paper towel.

The young woman nodded. "Leave your camera bag in your photography cubby tomorrow. There will be a test in it by the time you have class."

"You'd really do that for me?" Bex asked in disbelief.

"I care about you," Ms. Fisher said. "I'm happy to help you. Just remember, this is our secret."

"I won't tell anyone," Bex said, crossing her heart. "You have my word." Tentatively, she gave Ms. Fisher a hug.

* * *

The next day, there was a pregnancy test tucked safely in the bottom of Bex's camera bag, just as Ms. Fisher had promised. Bex brought it home without saying a word to anyone. When she got home, she closed herself in the bathroom and tore the slim box open. She read the instructions included. They seemed simple enough. Pee on the stick. Wait. If a second pink line appears, you're pregnant. If it doesn't, go on being a relatively carefree teenage girl.

Bex's hands trembled hard as she tugged her pants down and sat on the toilet. She could barely hold onto the test. When she was finished taking it, she set it on the counter. Waiting was the hardest part. Three seconds had passed, and she was already going crazy. She paced in the small bathroom, counting down in her head until the test would be ready.

Finally, it was time. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing for... she didn't know what. She took a few deep breaths, trying to mentally prepare herself. Then, she forced herself to go to the counter, her hand covering her eyes. She pried her fingers away from her face, slowly. Her stomach dropped to her feet. There were two pink lines. It was positive.

All at once, she saw her future fly out the window. She didn't care much about school, although she had been accepted into community college, but there were so many other things she wanted to do with her life, so many things she wanted to experience. How could she do anything she'd dreamed of now? She was going to have a baby; there was a tiny human growing inside her. She grasped the test in her hand, and sat down on the edge of the bathtub, too numb and too stunned to cry.

She knew in her heart of hearts that she was pregnant, even without a test, but _seeing_ it and having it confirmed was overwhelming. She was carrying Bowie's baby. Bowie, who didn't want to be tied down, who didn't like or want children. If he knew, he'd think she'd gotten pregnant on purpose, to keep him there. She could never tell them. But that meant their baby would grow up without a father. These thoughts ran through her head again and again. She was going to be a single mother, to a fatherless child, at just barely seventeen. She was practically a baby herself. She didn't even do her own laundry.

She let that sink in, and her tears finally came. When she was all cried out, though, she realized, strangely, that a small part of her _wasn't_ devastated. This was Bowie's baby, and she loved Bowie with all her heart. He may not care about her anymore, and her parents were sure to hate her once they found out, but her baby would _always_ love her. It would always need her. Part of her _wanted_ that unconditional love, when everyone else had failed her.

She dried her eyes with a piece of toilet paper, then wiped the pregnancy test clean. She brought it to her room and took out her memory box. There was a secret compartment in the lid, which was where she hid her most precious memories, the ones that were just for her eyes. She opened it carefully. There, tucked inside were Bowie's letter, which was now worn around the edges from her reading it so many times, and the photograph of the two of them. She added her positive pregnancy test to that small collection and secured the false lid. Then, she curled up on her bed. Her head ached. Staring at the wall, her parents crept back into her mind, and her fears and doubts came crashing in once again. Because at some point, she'd have to tell Ham and Celia. If she lived to see eighteen, it would be a miracle.

* * *

"Bex?" Ham called. "Honey? Answer me, please?" He knocked hard on his daughter's bedroom door. Bex had been sulking in her room all weekend. And when she did emerge from her room, she was sullen and out of sorts, ready to pick a fight with her mother over even the smallest things. The night before, he'd walked past her closed bedroom door and heard her crying inside. Bex wasn't a perfect angel, but these mood swings were extreme, even for her. And frankly, he was getting concerned. Especially after... well, he didn't want to think about it. But he knew he had to face it eventually, and now was as good a time as any. "I'm coming in!"

He entered Bex's room and found her curled up on her bed in a fetal position. "Honey, are you okay?" he asked. She didn't answer. He came to her bedside and sat down, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. She didn't stir.

"Sweetheart, I'm worried about you," he said softly, knowing he would have to tread carefully. "I know you're having a difficult time since Bowie left. I can't imagine what you're feeling. But if you want to talk, I'm here to listen. No judgement. All I want is to help you."

She finally rolled over. Her face was tear-stained and puffy. Dark circles framed her beautiful eyes. It made Ham sad to see her like that. She had always been so full of life, and energy. She kept him young. "Bex, is there something you need to tell me?" he asked. The question hung heavily in the air.

Their eyes met, and Bex broke down. Her body shook as she cried.

"Oh, sweetheart," Ham sighed, taking her in his arms. She clung to him like a small child. "I'm here," he whispered. "Daddy's here." He rocked her slowly. "You can say it, baby. It's okay."

Bex held onto him until her tears subsided a little. He rubbed her back, cradling her in his arms.

Finally, she parted from him, looking down. "I'm pregnant, dad." She said it quietly. She covered her face with her hands and let out a sob that broke his heart.

"I know, sweetie," he nodded grimly, his suspicions confirmed. "I know."

She looked up at him through parted fingers. "You _know?_ How?"

"I know the signs," he said gently. "You've been sick, and tired. And I saw the search history on the computer. I just put two and two together."

Panic and fear crossed Bex's face. "Does mom know?"

He shook his head. "No, baby. I wouldn't tell her like that." He took her hands in his. "You know you _will_ have to tell her, right?"

Her body tensed, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "I can't." She shook her head. "She'll kill me."

"She won't kill you. You know how much she hates stains on the carpet." His feeble attempt at a joke to lighten the moment failed to make her smile.

"She'll kick me out of the house." She was so upset, she was trembling.

"I wouldn't let that happen," he promised, taking her back in his arms. "Don't you worry about that."

"I'm so scared," she sniffled.

"I know you are," he said. "But I'm here, honey. I'll be right there with you when you tell her." He kissed the side of her head. "Does Bowie know? That's not why he left, is it?"

She shook her head. "He doesn't know. I didn't find out until he was already gone."

Ham breathed a sigh of relief. He liked Bowie, and wanted to believe the boy truly loved and cared about his daughter. "You need to tell him, Bex."

"I can't," she sobbed. "He doesn't want to be tied down. He said so. Besides, I don't know where he is, and he doesn't answer my calls."

"There are ways to find him," he pointed out. "It wouldn't be too hard to track him down."

"Please, dad. No," she pleaded. "Just let him go. I never want him to know."

Ham nodded. He thought Bowie would step up and do the right thing if he knew, but he didn't want to push the issue. And maybe Bex was right in this case. If Bowie were around, Celia would force the kids to get married. He didn't want to see his daughter pushed into a possibly unhappy marriage so young. What kind of life would she have then? "Have you decided what you're going to do? It's your choice, honey. Whatever you choose, I support you."

"I'm keeping the baby," she said, sure of herself, as if she'd given it a lot of thought. "It's a part of me, and of Bowie." She touched her stomach softly. "I still love him, dad. And I already love my baby."

"I know you do." He squeezed her hand. "We'll figure things out."

"I'm so sorry, dad," she choked. Her chin trembled. "I never wanted to disappoint you. You're the only person who really loves and understands me, and I blew it. If you hate me now, I understand."

"Oh Bex," he sighed, as his daughter began to cry again. "Sweetheart, I can't lie. I _am_ disappointed, but only because you're so bright and creative, and I want you to have the best future possible. But accidents happen, I know that. Nothing could ever make me hate you. _Ever._ You're my baby girl, and I love you no matter what."

"I love you too, dad," Bex said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"I know you don't want to, but you really do have to tell mom as soon as possible," he said calmly. "The longer you wait, the harder it will be. I'll give you a day or two to gather your thoughts, but just promise me you'll think about it. Okay?"

She nodded. "I promise."

* * *

Celia walked into her daughter's room and looked around. It was messy, but that was normal for Rebecca. Something was going on though, she knew it. A mother always knew. And she intended to find out what that something was. There was nothing wrong with searching her daughter's room, she thought. It was called being a good parent. Her own mother had done the same thing when she was young, and she turned out just fine.

She opened the closet and looked inside, pushing the clothes that were actually hanging aside, feeling around in a few jacket pockets. She found a handful of Tootsie Rolls in the toe of one of Rebecca's combat boots, but that was about it. She closed the closet exactly as it had been, and went to the bed.

Kneeling on the rug, she lifted the blue dust ruffle, and wrinkled her nose in disgust. The floor was littered with empty chip bags, dirty socks, magazines, and dust bunnies. But that seemed to be all there was. She stood up and lifted the mattress. There was nothing hidden under it. Rebecca was much too smart to hide anything important in such an obvious place, though.

She went to the desk next, and opened the drawers, taking care not to disturb anything. There wasn't much inside. Old school papers, a photo album, colored pencils, and a collection of plastic trolls. She went through each drawer slowly, leafing through books and notebooks. Then she got to the bottom drawer. It held Rebecca's memory box. Bingo.

She sat down at the desk, and opened the lid on the wooden cigar box. It was stuff with photos, ticket stubs, and other souvenirs. Normal things a young girl would keep. But her instincts told her that wasn't all that was stored inside. She carefully looked through everything, until she reached the bottom. She couldn't believe it when nothing turned up that explained her daughter's behavior as of late. She was positive she'd find something. Sighing, she put everything back as it was, and shut the lid. Her fingers paused against the latch. Something had rattled inside. She shook the box carefully, holding it to her ear, and heard the hollow sound again.

She reopened the box, and felt around the lid. There was a thumbtack stuck in it, holding an old fortune cookie paper in place. She pulled on the tack, and the whole blessed lid came loose. There was a false panel inside. She was at the point of no return now. She reminded herself again that teenagers couldn't be trusted; they lied, kept secrets; that she was just being a good mom.

There was a photo inside. A snapshot of Rebecca and Bowie. In spite of herself, a small smile crept to her lips. Her daughter had looked so happy in the picture, as if she were lit up from the inside. She rarely saw that smile anymore. There was also a letter in an envelope. She opened it, and eased the papers out, unfolding them in her lap. She skimmed the messily scrawled words, her eyes widening with horror, as phrases jumped out at her. _I'll never forget the first time we made love, how beautiful you looked, how soft your skin was...Hearing you whisper my name as we looked into each other's eyes... Waking up with you in my arms the next morning...I wish we could relive last night for the rest of our lives._ The letter was signed, _I'll always love you, now and forever, Bowie._

Celia's stomach dropped, and she felt sick. She couldn't read any more. She went to put the letter back in it's envelope, and realized there was something else tucked in the bottom of it. She stuck her fingers inside and pried that object out. She immediately wished she hadn't. It was a home pregnancy test, with two faded pink lines. "No. Dear god, no."


	14. Chapter 14 Knocked Up

Chapter 14. What To Expect When You're Knocked Up

Bex rested her chin on her hand and closed her eyes. She loved photography class; it was the highlight of her day, normally. But today, she just wasn't feeling it. She let her mind wander aimlessly. She wondered what Bowie was doing at that exact moment. She thought of her baby. She thought of how she was going to tell her mom _about_ the baby. She was planning to tell Celia that night, and she was not looking forward to it. She lay her head down on her table, feeling the coolness of it's surface on her cheek. She felt her eyelids grow heavy.

"Bex?"

She jerked as someone shook her shoulder, and looked up, confused. Ms. Fisher was standing over her. "Huh?"

Her classmates snickered and whispered.

"You were daydreaming, Bex," Ms. Fisher said softly, but not angrily. "Did you complete your assignment?"

Bex looked down sullenly at her portfolio. She was supposed to have turned in a portrait that day, but she hadn't even touched her camera in weeks. "No, I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Please see me after class," Ms. Fisher said patiently.

Bex nodded sullenly. "Okay."

The teacher moved on, and she went back to her thoughts. Class flew by. When the bell rang, she hung around, waiting for everyone to clear out of the room.

Ms. Fisher closed the classroom door softly. "How are you?" she asked. "Did you take the test, honey?"

Bex nodded. "Yes."

"How did it go? Is everything okay?"

She shook her head. "It was positive."

Ms. Fisher leaned back against one of the classroom tables. "Oh, Bex..." she sighed. "Are you okay?"

Bex shrugged. "There's nothing much to say. My life is over. But I decided I'm keeping the baby."

"Don't say your life is over," her teacher told her firmly. "That's not true. Thousands of young mothers go on to finish school, and have careers. There's all kinds of help out there. You have so much potential, Bex. You're one of the most promising students I've ever had."

Bex widened her eyes in surprise. No teacher had ever said that to her before. "Th-thank you?"

Ms. Fisher smiled. "Don't sell yourself short. You can do anything you put your mind to. I just don't want you to slip through the cracks." She paused thoughtfully. "And I know that this isn't something you planned on right now, but remember, every life is a gift. This baby you're carrying is a gift, and he or she is here for a reason."

Bex felt her heavy heart lift, just a little. "Thank you." She hoped her mom would see it that way, but she doubted it.

"About your photo assignment," Ms. Fisher went on. "There's some evidence that darkroom chemicals may be harmful to unborn babies. I'd rather you didn't take your chances. So just bring your negatives in, and I'll process your assignments for you. I won't take off any points. Okay?"

"Okay," she nodded. "Thanks."

"Take care of yourself, okay?" Ms. Fisher patted her shoulder encouragingly.

"I will," Bex smiled. She turned to leave the room, then stopped. "Ms. Fisher?"

"Yeah?"

"Please, don't tell anyone about this. I really don't want anyone to know right now." She was fully aware that she was the subject of gossip since Bowie left, more than ever. It was better if as few people knew that she was knocked up as possible.

Her teacher nodded. "I won't tell a soul. Try to have a good afternoon, honey."

* * *

When school finally ended, Bex left as fast as she could. She was surprised to see her dad's car parked at the curb in front of the building. Ham saw her and waved her over. She hurried to him, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

"Hey, sweetie pie," he smiled, opening the passenger door for her. "Hop in."

"What are you doing here, dad?" she asked, as she buckled her seat belt. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," he said. "I just thought you might like a ride. I know you have a lot on your mind today."

"Thanks," she said quietly.

Ham pulled away from the curb and drove off. After a long moment of silence, he cleared his throat. "This has all got me thinking on when you were born," he said wistfully.

She looked up curiously through a curtain of hair, which as hanging in her face. "Huh?"

"You came into this world kicking and screaming," he chuckled. "I knew you were going to be a handful, and I wasn't wrong."

Bex smiled a little, in spite of her dark mood.

"The day you were born was the happiest day of my life, Bex," he said. "The first time I held you, I knew my life had meaning." He turned onto the next street. "Not that your mom and I weren't nervous and scared about becoming parents. We were. It's hard sometimes. But it's rewarding too. The first time your child smiles at you, her first steps, first words. It's magical."

"Yeah, this morning sickness is _so_ magical," Bex said sarcastically.

Her father chuckled. "You know what I mean. Just think about what I said when things get tough. And they will get tough. Just know that, you know, some good will come out of this."

* * *

They pulled into the Mack driveway. Bex followed her dad inside. The living room was dark and quiet. She didn't see Celia sitting on the sofa right away. But seeing her there, she knew immediately that something was wrong. "Um, hi mom."

Celia stood up. Bex noticed that her face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and bloodshot. "Rebecca, you had better explain this to me right this second."

Bex looked down at her mom's hand. She was holding the pregnancy test. Her mouth hung open. She was too scared to speak, even to call her mom out for going through her things. She backed up, closer to her dad. Ham put his hands on her shoulders reassuringly.

"Is this yours?" her mother asked. "Are you pregnant?"

"Celia," Ham said calmly. "Bex needs to talk to you about something serious, and she's scared. Please, promise me you'll just hear her out before you get upset."

"Oh, I'm way past upset," Celia snapped. "I want to know what's going on this instant!"

Bex gaped at her, unable to make words come out. It was like her brain and tongue had completely disconnected.

"So help me, Rebecca, answer my question!" Celia shouted. "Are you pregnant?"

Bex's eyes welled with tears. Her father took her hand and squeezed it. "Go ahead, honey. You need to tell her the truth."

She nodded slowly, too ashamed to meet her mother's eyes. "Yes." She took a shaky breath. "Mom, please don't be mad. It was an accident. I'm sorry..."

Celia took a deep breath, and stood up, pointing her finger at Bex. The veins in her neck bulged. She had never looked so angry. "Get. Out! Pack your things and get out of my house!"

Bex sobbed, gasping for breath. This was exactly what she'd been afraid would happen; that she wouldn't just be pregnant and alone, but pregnant, alone, _and_ homeless.

 _"No,"_ Ham said firmly, rising to his feet. "This is my home too, and I will not let you put our only daughter out on the street when she needs us. I'm putting my foot down, Celia!"

"I said I was sorry!" Bex pleaded. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"How could you be so _stupid?_ " Celia asked her. "You're keeping this baby, I hope you know that! You made your bed and you're going to sleep in it. You're not taking the easy way out!"

"I _know,_ mom!" she cried. "I was _planning_ to keep it!"

"She was, Celia," Ham said softly. "She told me so, herself. Give her some credit."

"And _you!_ I can't believe you _knew_ about this!" she accused her husband.

"I've only known for a day!" he said defensively. "I was just giving Bex a chance to do the mature thing and come to you, herself. Which she was planning to do tonight."

"I didn't raise you like this," Celia said with ice in her voice.

"Like what, mom?" Bex challenged, a little of her usual fire returning." She cringed, a little bit afraid her mother was going to hit her, even if she'd never raised a hand to her before. But then again, she'd never seen her mom so crazed with anger. It was frightening.

"To be a whore!" Celia shouted. "And yet, I'm not at all surprised. This is exactly the kind of thing I'd expect from you. I should have known you'd throw your life away for some boy."

Bex's eyes filled with fresh tears. She almost wished her mom _had_ slapped her. It would have hurt less.

"I can't even look at you, Rebecca," her mother said. "As far as I'm concerned, I have no daughter."

"You don't mean that, Celia," Ham said. But his wife had already rushed off to her room.

* * *

After the fight heard around the world, Bex retreated to her own bedroom. She wished she never had to leave it again. She put her earphones in and turned her favorite CD on. Her eyes were sore and her head ached from crying.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She pulled her earphones off. "If it's Celia, get lost."

"It's me, sweetheart," her father's calm voice answered. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," she sighed.

Ham stuck his head in the room. "I ordered a pizza. Come downstairs and eat something, honey."

"I'm not hungry," she said.

"Please, Bex," he pleaded. "You need to eat something. Pizza always makes you feel better."

"I'm not eating with _her,"_ she said pointedly, referring to Celia.

"You're mother went to bed," Ham told her. "I don't think she'll be joining us tonight."

"Fine." Bex slid off her bed, and followed her dad to the kitchen.

She was surprised to see the pizza was topped with pepperoni, something her mother wouldn't have approved of. She put a small slice on a plate and sat down at the table. She took a bite and chewed, her jaw tight from stress. The tension in the house was permeable; it settled into her bones and stayed there. She could feel it all around her. She looked up at her father, sitting across from her at the table. His eyes were downcast, and he seemed just uncomfortable as she was. Everyone was miserable, and painfully, she reminded herself that it was all her fault.

She was still eating when Celia shuffled into the kitchen, dressed in her bathrobe and rumpled pajamas. She looked terrible. To Bex, it looked as if she had aged ten years in an hour. Her hair was a stringy mess, where it was usually pristine. Her face was drawn and tear-stained, her eyelids puffy.

"Well, I have a solution to our problem," she announced tonelessly.

"And that would be?" Ham ventured.

"I looked online and found a group home for unwed teenage mothers not too far from here," she said. "We'll send Rebecca there for her pregnancy."

Ham's face reddened.

 _"No!"_ Bex shouted, rising to her feet. "If you send me there, I'll run away."

"You stay out of this!" Celia snapped.

"You're not sending our child to some baby farm, Celia!" Ham cried. "This isn't 1960! I'd just as soon leave and take Bex with me!"

"Do you see the trouble you've caused?" Celia asked Bex. "I hope you're happy!" She began to cry.

"Everyone just shut up!" Bex shouted, plugging her ears with her fingers, like she did when she was a little child. Tears filled her eyes. She got up and hurried to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Even with it closed, she could hear her parents fighting, for hours, it seemed. Once again, she reminded herself that she'd caused it.

At that moment, she hated Bowie. He was who knew where, living his dreams, without a care in the world. He had no idea of the mess he left her in. He should have been there, dealing with it with her. This was just as much his fault as it was hers; maybe even more. Yet, she was the one who had to face the consequences, just because of simple biology.

She rubbed her flat stomach softly, staring up at the dark ceiling. A few glow-in-the-dark stars, leftovers from her childhood, glowed dully. For a fleeting second, she entertained the thought that maybe it would be for the best for everyone if she just had a miscarriage. She immediately hated herself. No, it would kill her if she lost her baby. She loved it, and she wanted it more than anything. And she was going to bring it into the world, no matter what. Her baby was an innocent, caught in the middle of everything. She hugged her midsection numbly, her eyes filling with tears, as the stars on her ceiling blurred.

Night fell, and Bex didn't leave her bed or talk to anyone. She heard her mother shuffle up the stairs to her bedroom. And she heard her dad pull the sofa bed out in the living room, something that had never happened before, as far as she knew. She pulled her comforter over her head, trying to shut out the world.

* * *

The next morning, Bex dragged herself down to breakfast, and found her parents sitting ominously in the kitchen. "What?"

"We have a solution," Celia said, wiping her mouth daintily with a napkin. "You'll stay here for a few more months, and when you start to show, you'll go and stay with your Aunt Mei. You'll have the baby there."

"No!" Bex cried, her voice coming out in a pathetic squeak. Her stomach sunk. "I don't like Aunt Mei!"

"Well, neither do I," her mother told her. "But it's the answer to our problems, and Mei agreed, so this is what we're doing. It's settled."

Bex look to her father. There was no way he'd sign off on this. "Dad?"

He gave her a regretful look. But he didn't protest.


	15. Chapter 15 Say Goodbye

_Chapter 15. Say Goodbye_

 _Bex rolled over in bed, blinking against the darkness. Something had roused her from her sleep. She rubbed her eyes with her fists, as something tapped against her window. "What the heck?" she mumbled._

 _She climbed out of bed, and went to the window, parting the curtains, and gasped with surprise. "Bowie?" She opened the window quickly. There he stood, smiling._

 _"Hey, Bex."_

 _"What are you doing here?" she asked him, wrapping her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder. She planted a kiss on his cheek, then his lips, frantically holding onto him as if he'd disappear before her eyes._

 _"I just wanted to see you," he told her, returning her kiss. "I missed you."_

 _"I missed you too," she said. "Hey! How did you get up here?"_

 _"The same way you get out," he said, nonchalantly. He glanced downward._

 _Bex leaned over the windowsill and peered out._ When did mom put the trellis back up? _She asked herself. She looked back up at Bowie. "Do you want to come in?"_

 _He shook his head. "I can't," he replied, with a sad look in his eyes. "You have to come out."_

 _She gave him a sad look. "I can't," she told him. "I'm too scared."_

 _"Please?" he pleaded. "I want to show you the stars. But we have to hurry."_

 _"But what if I fall?" she asked._

 _"If you fall, I'll catch you," he promised. He reached for her hand, taking it in his and squeezing it. "Please, Bex? If we don't go now, we never will."_

 _"Fine," she finally agreed. "I'll go."_

 _"I'll wait for you at the bottom," he told her. "Just don't look down."_

 _In a moment, he was out of sight. Hesitantly, she climbed onto the windowsill, and eased herself onto the trellis. The wood slats hurt her bare feet. She wished she'd put on shoes. She climbed down carefully. She was about halfway down when she didn't hear Bowie's voice anymore. "Bowie?" she called._

 _No answer. She looked down, turning her head slowly, and a scream froze in her throat. Bowie was nowhere in sight, and the ground was much farther away than it should have been. And worst of all, the trellis was crumbling, falling away. She had to get back to her window. She scurried up just as the foothold she'd been using turned to dust, but she still had a long way to go. She clung to the trellis for dear life, reaching for something to hold on to as it cracked between her fingers. But then, a horrible splitting sound told her it was too late. The whole trellis disintegrated before her eyes. She dug her nails into the siding of the house, but it didn't slow her fall. She was sliding down, into the unknown darkness below..._

Bex awoke with a start, breathing heavily. She sat up in bed, looking around, disoriented. Morning light streamed through the window. Everything looked perfectly normal.

"It was just a dream," she said to herself. A nightmare, really. It felt so real. She almost swore she could still smell Bowie's cologne clinging to her pajamas, and feel the touch of his lips on her skin.

She got out of bed, and went to the window. She looked out nervously. The trellis wasn't there. The yard was still.

She turned back to her mirror, feeling uneasy and disappointed. As terrifying as the dream had been, it had been wonderful seeing and touching Bowie again, if only for a minute. But now she was awake, and he was still gone. Sadness crept into her veins. If anything, the dream brought back the pain of him leaving all over again.

"Rebecca?" Her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah, I'm up!" Bex called back.

Her mother opened her bedroom door, and stood in the threshold. "Hurry and get dressed. We're leaving for your doctor's appointment in an hour."

She groaned. She'd forgotten about her appointment with the obstetrician. "Do I have to go today?"

"Yes!" Her mom said. "Get moving."

Her mother left the room, and Bex went to her dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She slipped her pajama top over her head in front of the full length mirror and tossed it on the bed. As she reached for her shirt, her reflection stopped her. She studied herself in the mirror carefully, moving her hips from side to side, to view herself from every angle. It wasn't her imagination. Between her hip bones, her stomach stuck out in a small swell. She studied it, fascinated, for a moment. It was real now. There was an actual baby in there, growing every minute of every day. Though she obviously knew she was pregnant, the concept had felt so vague, because she still looked the same on the outside. Now, her body was starting to change.

In that moment, her stomach sunk with realization. The weeks were ticking by, and if her baby was growing, her days at home were numbered. She wasn't ready yet. It was all happening too fast. She'd only get bigger, and then she'd be shipped off to Aunt Mei's.

She sucked her stomach in, and the bump disappeared. Maybe, she thought, she could buy herself a little more time. She dug through her dresser drawer and found a baggy sweater. She pulled it on, letting the thick blue knit fall over her abdomen. She inhaled, hoping this would be enough.

* * *

Celia was the most boring driver in the world. She drove _so_ slowly, and refused to turn the radio on, ever. Bex stared out the passenger seat window, watching the mountains rise and fall, as mile after boring mile passed by. She was in a rotten mood after her bad dream and the realization that keeping your stomach constantly sucked in was uncomfortable, but the morning had gotten off to an even worse start after she and Celia had had an argument about her prenatal vitamins. Neither of them felt much like talking.

"I don't see why we have to drive an hour away to see the stupid obstetrician," Bex griped, breaking the silence. "I'm pretty sure they have them in Shadyside."

"They also have gossipy people in Shadyside," Celia reminded her. "If the wrong person sees you there, everyone will be talking about us."

"So? You gossip all the time," she quipped back.

"I do not!" her mother cried.

Bex snorted, rolling her eyes. "And what do you call what you do with your garden club every week?"

"Do you have to make everything so difficult?" Celia asked.

"Yes. Yes I do." Bex turned away, toward the window. A lonely feeling suddenly overcame her, and the silence proved to be too much. "Mom?" she asked.

"Hmm?" her mom said, her eyes fixed on the road.

"I know you told me not to tell anyone I'm... _pregnant_..." she ventured. Her mother winced as she said it, as if the word caused her physical pain. "But can't I tell _somebody?"_

Celia gripped the steering wheel tightly, her hands firmly on ten and two, from which she never deviated. "You haven't told anyone, have you?"

"No!" She said, hurriedly. "I was just wondering... couldn't I at least tell Emily?" The more isolated her mother made her feel, the more she missed her best friend. She thought maybe, if Emily knew what she'd been going through, she'd forgive her and be her friend again. Bex knew she'd have to hear 'I told you so,' but it would be worth it to have someone to confide in. "She won't tell anyone."

"No," Celia replied, before Bex had barely finished her sentence. "Absolutely not."

"But she's my _friend!"_ she protested, even though she knew that wasn't completely true anymore.

 _"No,"_ her mom said again. "I mean it, Rebecca. I don't care what your father says. If you tell anyone about this, you're out of my house. Do you understand me?"

"You're crazy," Bex muttered under her breath.

"I'm only trying to protect your reputation," Celia said.

"No, you're trying to protect _your_ reputation," she retorted. "As usual."

"Rebecca, something like this changes the way people look at you forever," her mom said. "It changes the way people will see our family. I'm sorry you're unhappy now, but you'll thank me one day."

"I didn't know I was causing you so much shame," Bex snapped, reclining in her seat. She took her portable CD player out of her purse, planning on tuning her mother out for the rest of the trip. But then, something troubling occurred to her. "Tell me. Where will people think I am when I'm away at Aunt Mei's?"

Celia sighed softly. "They'll think you're studying abroad."

 _"What?"_ Bex shouted, widening her eyes. "Like an exchange student?" She almost laughed. Exchange students were smart kids, who had perfect grades and could speak foreign languages, and not just the swear words. That wasn't her. Who would even believe that?

"Yes," Celia nodded. "You will be staying with your cousins in China for the remainder of your senior year." She said it so seamlessly, it almost sounded as if she'd started to believe it herself.

"Where do I sign up to exchange mothers?" Bex asked. "Is there an imaginary program for that?"

"You're impossible!" Celia huffed, sighing again.

"Fine, mom," Bex shrugged. "You can explain me leaving to people. But how are you gonna explain it when I come home with a _baby?"_

A muscle in her mother's jaw twitched, and she pursed her lips thoughtfully. Bex felt fleeting panic rise in her chest. She _was_ coming back. Wasn't she?

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," her mother said softly.

* * *

Celia rushed Bex through the hospital parking lot, looking all around for familiar faces, her dark sunglasses flashing in the sunlight.

Bex honestly wouldn't have been surprised if her mother had pulled out a pair of those plastic disguise glasses with the fake nose and mustache attached, and made her wear them. Or a Halloween mask, like Michael Jackson's kids. She snickered to herself, picturing it in her head as they walked through the automatic door.

She hadn't spoken to her mom for the last half of the trip, and she didn't plan to start. She followed her silently to the registration desk, maintaining the pouty face she'd perfected over the years.

"What can I do for you ladies?" The receptionist asked. She was annoyingly cheerful.

"My daughter has an appointment," Celia told her in a hushed voice. "Rebecca Mack."

The receptionist gave Celia an odd look as she handed her a clipboard. "Please take a seat and fill out these forms. Someone will call you back in a moment." She turned her attention to Bex. "Smile, will you!"

Bex frowned deeper, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She hated when people ordered her to smile. It was obnoxious. They couldn't tell her how to feel. And if that woman had any idea what she was going through, she wouldn't be in such a good mood.

"You are the rudest girl," Celia whispered, as they walked toward the waiting area. "I don't know where you learned your manners, but it wasn't from me."

Bex followed her mother silently to a corner seat. Celia began filling out the paperwork methodically in her precise handwriting.

Bex looked around the room, yawning. There were a few other people waiting, and none of them were paying her the least bit of attention. She had no idea what her mom was so self-conscious about. They were strangers. Odds were, she'd never see any of them again.

To entertain herself, she decided to guess why each person was there. There was a teenage girl across the room, about Bex's own age. She figured the girl was probably there to get birth control, because her parents didn't control her every move.

Her attention fell on a soccer mom-type next. She had blond hair in a neat bob and was wearing jeans and a bright green sweater. _Genital warts,_ Bex decided. _From having an affair with her kids' coach._

She turned her attention to a very, very pregnant woman. Her ankles were swollen, and her stomach stuck straight out in front of her. Bex could clearly see her bellybutton, sticking out like a thermometer in a turkey, through her baggy maternity top.

She couldn't imagine looking like that. She had always been stick-thin; but she knew she would be in that woman's place in just a few months, as hard as it was to believe. She sucked her own stomach in a little tighter.

"Stop staring," her mother hissed.

Just then, a nurse came out and called her name. Bex's stomach fluttered with nerves. She rose to her feet, and Celia did too. "You're not going in with me," Bex told her mom.

"Yes, I am" Celia told her firmly.

"I have the right to my privacy!" she protested.

"I'm only going in to make sure we understand the doctor's orders," her mother said. "Okay? There's no need to make a scene." She said it in that patronizing way that always made Bex feel stupid and wrong.

Bex scowled. This was not good. She'd have to be extra careful about hiding her stomach. She followed the nurse back to the examination room and changed into a gown, then got on the table, feeling awkward and exposed. She wrapped a sheet around her body, self-consciously.

The nurse took her blood pressure, temperature, and weight. "So, you're eight weeks along?" she asked.

"Yeah," Bex answered.

She nodded and made a note on her clipboard. "The father is welcome to attend your visits too, if you wish for him to be there."

"He-" she started to answer, when her mom cut in.

"The baby's father isn't in the picture," she quickly informed the nurse.

The woman nodded, sympathetically. "I see on your chart that you've never had a pelvic exam?"

"No?" Bex said, her voice rising as if she were asking a question. Her heart pounded with anxiety.

"Well, we'll take care of that today. The doctor will be in to see you shortly."

* * *

Bex had never been so relieved about _anything_ as she was when her pelvic exam was finally over. Even though her mother had sat behind a curtain for privacy, it was the single most humiliating experience of her life, just knowing she was in the same room. By then, she was so angry at her mom, she could scream.

"I want her to gain about thirty pounds," the doctor told Celia, once the curtain was withdrawn. "She's slightly underweight, and that seems a reasonable amount to gain for her height." There was nothing Bex hated more than people talking about her as if she weren't there. She concentrated on holding her stomach in, though she was feeling a little bit lightheaded by then.

Celia nodded. "That sounds manageable."

The doctor turned back to Bex. "I bet you're ready to see your baby," she smiled.

Her heart lifted slightly. "Yeah."

The doctor left the room, and the same nurse from before returned. "Lay back on the table, honey."

Bex laid back, the sheet carefully covering her legs, and put her feet in the stirrups. She pulled her abs in tight as the nurse opened her gown, and squirted some gel on her skin.

"Don't look so worried," the woman told her. "This won't hurt at all."

She pressed a paddle to Bex's stomach, moving it around in the gel while she watched a monitor carefully. It felt weird, cold and sticky. Bex was starting to get antsy. "Do I get to find out what I'm having?" she asked.

"Not today," the woman replied. "It's a little too early for that."

Bex nodded. "Oh."

"Which are you hoping for?"

She paused. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. I think I want a girl, though."

"Well, you might not be able to learn the sex today," the nurse told her. "But you will be able to see the baby, and hear his or her heartbeat."

Bex craned her neck to look at the monitor. "Can I see it now? Where is it?"

The nurse smiled, and pointed to the image, which resembled static on an old TV. "Right here."

Bex studied the grainy image hard, her heart falling. "I don't see it." She frowned, disappointed.

"It's right here, honey," the nurse told her. She circled the center of the monitor with her fingertip. "Do you see it now?"

"No," Bex said. She leaned forward slightly, to get a closer look. She studied the screen for a long moment, trying to see what everyone else clearly could, and feeling dumber by the second.

"For Pete's sake, Rebecca, it's right in front of you!" Celia cried. "Look."

"Shut up!" Bex snapped.

"It can be hard to make out his or her features at this point, if you've never had a child before," the nurse said diplomatically. "See this white, lumpy shape here?"

"Yeah..." Bex ventured.

"That's baby," the woman smiled. "Here's the head, and it's little bottom, and here's the legs sticking up."

As the nurse pointed out the shape of the baby, it became clearer. "I see it," she said, smiling her first real smile that day. "Wow. That's so cool!"

"You're lucky," the nurse told her. "We picked the perfect time to take a look. The baby's moving." She smiled warmly. "Watch carefully, and you'll see it."

Bex stared at the monitor, and saw the white shape shift, just a little. "Whoa."

"The heartbeat is strong and healthy," the nurse went on as, Bex stared in wonder. "Do you want to hear it now?"

"Yeah," she nodded. The next thing she knew, the room was echoing with a galloping sound, fast and steady.

"The slower beat is yours," the older woman told her. "The faster one is the baby's."

Bex was speechless, maybe for the first time in her life. It took her a moment to realize that she was crying, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

She was startled from her thoughts by the sound of her mother's voice. She looked back at Celia. Her mom was also in tears.

* * *

Bex had no idea what she was doing as she walked the familiar route to Bowie's house, the print-out of her sonogram tucked in the pocket of her jeans. She must have been crazy, she thought to herself.

She went up his front walk, and willed herself to knock on the door. A tiny part of her was hoping Bowie would be there, that he'd tell her he'd come back for her, and he wasn't going to leave again. But she knew she was just kidding herself.

The truth was, she had a plan. It had formed in the back of her mind on the way to the obstetrician, perhaps when she offhandedly made that joke about exchanging mothers. By the time she got home, she knew it was the answer to her problems. She _had_ to save herself from being sent to Aunt Mei's, from being forced to drop out of school and have her baby in an unfamiliar place, from all the fighting at home. She was already beginning to show. She would only get bigger, and then her fate would be sealed. She needed a safe place to land, and the only place she could think of was here. She would tell Cookie that she was pregnant, and explain what was happening. Cookie would take her in, and love and care for her, like a real mother. She and Cookie would raise her baby together in that wonderful home.

In a moment of panic, she considered turning around a leaving, but Cookie answered the door before she had the chance.

"Rebecca!" Bowie's mom cried, when she saw Bex standing on the porch. She gathered her in her arms and hugged her tight. "My sweet girl!"

Bex clung to Mrs. Quinn. It felt so good to feel loved by a mother-figure. She never wanted to let go; she felt starved for affection, something that was in short supply at the Mack house as of late.

"What brings you here, sweetheart?" Cookie asked her, smoothing her hair back and holding her face between her hands. "I've sure missed seeing you around the house."

"I've missed you too," Bex admitted. "I-I just came to talk with you. If you're not too busy." She knew the situation had to be handled delicately. It had to be brought up at just the right time.

"I'm never too busy for you," Cookie smiled. "Come in, it's freezing out here." She ushered Bex to the living room and sat her down on the couch. "I'll fix us some tea, and I've just made an angel food cake."

"That sounds great," Bex said softly. "Thank you."

Bowie's mom went into the kitchen, and Bex sat quietly, fretting about what to say; about how exactly she should tell Cookie she was carrying her grandchild.

Her eyes fell on a framed picture of Bowie, sitting on the coffee table. Her hands shook as she picked it up and studied it. There he was, just as she knew him, his soft curls and sweet dimples, his beautiful hazel eyes. She secretly wished her baby would have his eyes, but she knew, genetically, the odds were against it. She didn't even resemble her blue-eyed, blond father.

Bowie's image swam as her eyes clouded with tears. She tried to hold back a sob, but it escaped anyway, coming out in a gasp. The ache in her heart was so deep, she thought her baby must feel it too, for a father her or she didn't even know.

"I miss him too, baby."

Bex glanced up to see that Cookie had returned with a tea tray. She set it on the coffee table and sat down. Bex could see that tears were running down the older woman's face.

Cookie took her glasses off and cleaned them. "Come here, sweetheart. Let me hold you."

She let Bowie's mom take her in her arms again. She lay her head on her shoulder, as tears dripped freely down her chin, dotting the woman's blouse.

Cookie rubbed Bex's back soothingly, rocking her slowly. "This house feels so empty without Steven," she said wistfully. "For seventeen years, my whole world revolved around him. I don't know what to do with myself without him to take care of."

She dabbed at her eyes. "But I know children have to grow up and live their own lives. He needed to live his dream. He would regret it forever if he didn't at least try."

She kissed the side of Bex's head softly. "I'm just sorry he hurt you, baby," she admitted. "You didn't deserve that."

Bex sobbed against Cookie's shoulder, choking on her tears. "I _loved_ him."

"I know, honey," the older woman soothed. "He loved you too. I'm sure he always will. He agonized about leaving you, Rebecca. He really did. It was the hardest choice he's ever had to make."

"You were good for him," Cookie went on. "For me too. You've truly been like the daughter I never had. I hoped you might be my daughter-in-law one day."

"Cookie, I-" Bex began, but her tongue froze. She couldn't make the words she'd rehearsed so carefully come out.

"What, sweetie?" Bowie's mom frowned.

Bex looked down, fresh tears filling her eyes. "I love you."

The older woman reached for her hand, clasping between hers. "I love you too, baby doll."

Bex chewed her lip. She couldn't tell Cookie she was pregnant now. She couldn't stand it if the woman who had loved her like her own thought she was nothing but a whore, like Celia did. She wouldn't be able to live with herself.

It was then that she took in the rest of the room, for the first time in her visit. There were boxes stacked in the corner, and a pile of newspapers near the fireplace, which had been cleared of the usual knick-knacks and framed school portraits. "What's going on?" she asked, looking around.

Cookie sighed. "We're going away for a while," she said. "Now that Steven's left home, the house just feels so big and quiet."

"Y-you're moving away?" Bex felt her last thread of hope slip through her fingers, along with her fantasy about living with the Quinns.

"Not moving, per say," Cookie explained. "We're going to rent the house out, do a little traveling. We just bought a used RV. It's always been Mr. Quinn's and my dream to see America."

"How long will you be gone?" Bex asked her.

"A year, maybe longer," she replied. "We don't really have a plan. We're just going wherever the road take us."

"Oh." Bex looked down into her lap. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, sweetie," Cookie said. "I'll send you a postcard from the Grand Canyon. I promise," she winked.

"Thanks." Bex smiled weakly and stood up. "I think I better get home now."

"Honey, wait," Cookie said. "What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Oh, yeah," Bex said, thinking quickly. "Um... have you seen a necklace around? It's silver, with a key on it. I think I lost it here."

"I haven't seen it," Cookie said, shaking her head. "But I'll keep my eyes peeled."

"Okay," she said. "Thanks." She hugged the older woman again. "Goodbye."

* * *

Bex was eating breakfast one morning in April, when her mother looked at her carefully and announced, "it's time."

"Time for what?" She dropped her spoon in her cereal bowl. The milk splashed on the tablecloth, but her mother didn't yell at her for making a mess. "Mom, time for what?"

Celia turned to Ham. "I'll call Mei. She can be here tomorrow."

"Celia, are you sure?" Mr. Mack asked, frowning. "She doesn't look that big to me."

Bex sucked her stomach in for good measure.

"She looks big enough," his wife assured him. She went to the hall closet and came back lugging a brown leather suitcase.

"I'm leaving _tomorrow?"_ Bex cried. "No! I'm not ready!" She felt the sting of tears building up behind her eyes. "I thought I'd have more time!"

"You knew the time would come eventually," Celia reminded her. "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be, Rebecca."

Bex sniffled. Deep down, a part of her had thought her mother was just bluffing about sending her away. But now she could see that she was serious. "I _hate_ you!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Bex!" her father scolded. "Apologize to your mother this instant!"

"I do!" she shouted, balling her fists. "You're the worst mother in the world, and I'll never forgive you for this!" She grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "I'm going to school."

"You need to stay home and pack," Celia told her, reaching for her arm. "There's no need to go to school today."

"I'm going and you can't stop me!" she shouted. She ran out the door before anyone could say any more.

Bex hurried to school as fast as she could manage, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was weird; she hated school, but now that she was leaving, she wished she didn't have to.

Breathlessly, she pushed the school door open and went inside. She'd gotten there early, before homeroom even started, and rushed down the hall. She went straight to Ms. Fisher's room, without even going to her locker. "Ms. Fisher!"

She stopped in her tracks. Sitting at her photography teacher's desk was a complete stranger. "Who are you? Where's Ms. Fisher?"

The strange woman looked up. "I'm sorry. Ms. Fisher's absent today."

"She's not gonna be here today?" Bex could hardly believe her eyes or ears. Her heart crushed with disappointment. Now she wouldn't even get to say goodbye to the one person who had really tried to help her. The only person who had truly been kind to her.

"No," the woman said. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

She hung her head down to hide her tear-stained face. "No. Thank you."

* * *

 **The Next Day**

Standing in the foyer, Bex looked to her dad, pleading with her eyes. She felt as if she were five years old again. She wanted him to take her in his arms and make everything better. "Daddy, don't make me go," she begged, her voice breaking. "Please. I don't want to go."

Ham's blue eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry, honey," he sighed, gathering her in a hug. "I don't want you to go either. I tried. I really did." He held her to his chest, running his fingers through her damp hair. "But it's only for a few months, and maybe it is for the best?"

Bex started to cry harder, clinging to her father, hoping against hope that he'd save her.

"You'll be home before you know it, sweetheart," he soothed. "Aunt Mei will take good care of you, and when you're ready to have the baby, we'll come up to be with you."

Bex was sobbing so hard, she couldn't speak.

Ham let go of her, and took her tear-stained face between his hands, so he could look her in the eye. "Know that this wasn't my idea, Bex. I would _never_ do this to you. It's killing me to let you go, even for a little while." He wiped her sticky tears away with his thumbs. "Please forgive me, honey. I love you so much."

Bex nodded, taking a gasping breath. "I love you too, daddy."

Ham sobbed, giving her one more hug, as Mei pulled into the driveway.

"She's here," Celia said, rushing to the foyer. "Get her bags, Ham."

Bex's stomach seized. She gave her father an unsure look as her aunt stepped out of her car.

"Rebecca," Mei said. "I'm so happy you're coming to visit." She frowned. "Why the tears?"

"She's a little scared," Ham said patiently, wrapping his arm around Bex's shoulder. "She doesn't want to leave home. And I have to admit, I'm against this arrangement too."

Mei brushed him off with a sweep of her hand. "Ham, families do this kind of thing for each other all the time. It's not unheard of." She looked to Celia smugly, loving every minute of her sister's discomfort. "I know Celia would do the same for _me_ , if my Ling ever got herself in trouble."

She reached for Bex's suitcase. "We really have to get going now, Rebecca. We have a long drive ahead of us."

"I'll carry those, Mei," Ham said, taking Bex's things. He put them in the trunk, trying to hide his tears.

Bex stood beside him, stalling for time. Once the trunk was closed, her dad turned back to her. "No matter what, Bex, you'll always be my number one baby girl." He kissed her tear-stained cheek. "Be safe, honey. And call as soon as you get there."

"I will," she sniffled.

"I love you, honey."

"I love you too."

Celia stepped closer to Bex. "We'll see you soon, Rebecca. I promise. We'll miss you."

Bex didn't respond, and her mother's eyes clouded with hurt.

"Dad?" she said quietly, barely more than a whisper. "If Bowie calls?"

Her father nodded. "I know, baby."

There was nothing left to say. Bex got into Aunt Mei's car and shut the door, giving her dad one last small wave.

Ham blew her a kiss, the watched Mei's car drive away. He stood at the end of the driveway until the car was out of sight, and even then, he stayed at his post a few moments longer. Just in case they came back.

Then, he turned to his wife. "That was the cruelest thing you've ever done, Celia. I hope you're happy."


	16. Chapter 16 Pretty in Pink

Chapter 16. Pretty In Pink

 **September**

Bex sat on Aunt Mei's couch, waiting. Her due date was in a week, and her parents were on their way. She hadn't seen them in almost five months, and honestly, she wasn't even sure they'd recognize her. Her baby bump had grown considerably, to the point that she couldn't even tie her own shoes anymore. She now knew she was carrying a baby girl. She'd also changed her hair again. It was now cut in a bob, and dyed bright red.

In some ways, being away from home wasn't all bad. Aunt Mei was a piece of work, and she couldn't forget about all the things being forced to leave home had cost her; her friendships, graduating with her high school class, and the security of her own home. But in the other hand, she'd found some independence and freedom at her aunt's. And at least she was somewhere where everything didn't remind her of Bowie. Shadyside felt heavy with memories of him.

The doorbell rang. "That must be your parents," Aunt Mei said curtly.

"I'll get it." Bex hobbled to her feet and went to the door, more nervous than she expected she'd be. She opened it, and there were her mom and dad. They hadn't changed a bit. "Hi," she said, suddenly shy.

"What have you done to your hair?" Celia cried. There were tears in her eyes.

Bex touched the tips of her shorter hair. "Do you like it?"

"No, I don't," Celia laughed.

"Just to be clear, I did _not_ give her permission to do that to herself," Aunt Mei told her sister.

"Well, I think she looks cool," Ham winked. He smiled happily. "Come here, kiddo. Give me a hug."

Bex threw her arms around her father's neck, giving him the tightest hug she could manage with her huge stomach. "I missed you so much," she said, tears filling her eyes and spilling over.

"I missed you too, honey." He planted a kiss on her temple.

"I don't suppose you missed me," Celia said softly. Her chin trembled, and she turned her head away, carefully avoiding meeting Bex's eyes.

"I did miss you, mom," Bex said honestly, her heart aching. Her mother reached for her hand and squeezed it.

"You look wonderful, sweetheart," Ham said. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good," she said, rubbing her stomach. "The baby's kicking a lot today."

"May I feel?" her mom asked, cautiously.

"Yes," she smiled. "Of course. Go ahead, mom." She'd quickly learned that when you're pregnant, your stomach becomes public property. Everyone who sees you has to touch it.

Celia gently lay her hand on Bex's stomach. The baby picked just then to give a hearty kick. Celia laughed and sobbed at the same time. "This little girl is going to be a dancer."

"A tap dancer, by the feel of it," Bex laughed. The baby had especially taken to kicking her bladder. Sometimes when she lay down at night, she could actually _see_ the baby moving. It was weird, seeing a lump suddenly bulge out of her abdomen, and move from one side to the other. She hoped the baby would do that later, because she knew her parents would get a kick out of it. It was pretty adorable.

"Where can we put our bags?" Celia asked Mei, glancing past Bex at her older sister.

"You may put them in the guest room," Mei told her. "Rebecca has been sleeping in Ling's room. I thought she would be more comfortable there, with a television and books to read."

"That's very kind of you, Mei," Ham said diplomatically.

Mei nodded. "Well, it's fortunate the room was empty, since Ling is away at _college._ " She emphasized the word college ever so slightly, but it was clear she was gloating. Bex saw her mother's jaw tighten. If only she knew that Aunt Mei had reminded Bex that Ling was away at _college_ at least twice a day since she'd arrived. This was going to be a long week.

* * *

Bex was propped up in bed, watching _Pretty In Pink_ and eating Oreos, when her labor pains began. She barely noticed the contractions at first; they didn't feel much different then the false contractions she'd been experiencing on and off for the past few weeks. Absorbed in the movie, she reached into the package of cookies balanced on her belly; she'd found, purely by accident, that her baby bump made the perfect table for snacks, and popped one in her mouth.

Downstairs, she could hear her mother and aunt arguing. Aunt Mei must have made one passive-aggressive comment too many, because they'd been going at it all evening. She tried to tune them out by turning up the TV.

 _Pretty in Pink_ was one of her all-time favorite movies, and it was almost to her favorite scene. She settled back to watch, rubbing her stomach. She was uncomfortable no matter how she positioned herself, and she hoped the movie would take her mind off of it.

By the time Andie had arrived at the prom in her pink dress, Bex had become aware that her contractions were becoming stronger and closer together. And she started to realize that this may not be another false alarm. One thought registered in her mind- that she really liked the name _Andie_ \- as her abdomen and back clenched in pain, worse than anything she'd felt so far.

She leaned forward, sucking in her breath, willing the cramps to go away. Finally they did. But a few minutes later, they returned.

She crawled out of bed, bent over, unable to stand up straight. "Mom!" she cried. _"Mom!_ Help me!" She sunk down on her knees, sobbing.

The arguing downstairs ceased immediately. "Rebecca!" Celia had run up the stairs, Aunt Mei and Ham close behind. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

"I'm having contractions," Bex said, breathing shallowly. "They hurt." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Make it stop, mom!"

"I can't, Rebecca," Celia apologized. "I wish I could, but I can't." She turned to her husband. "Get her suitcase from the hall closet. It's all packed. Put it in the car, then call the hospital and tell them we're coming."

"Do you think she's in labor?" Ham asked.

"It looks like it," she nodded.

"I'm on it." Ham jogged out of the room and down the stairs.

Celia squeezed her daughter's hand. "Can you try to stand up?"

"I don't know," she gasped. "It really hurts."

"You need to try," her mother told her. "You can do it. I know you can." She reached out to help her up. "How far apart are your contractions?"

"I don't know," she sobbed.

"You _should_ know," Celia told her. "You should be timing them!"

"Let me get out my stopwatch, mom," Bex snapped irritably. Then she screamed as another round of pain gripped her. "Mom, _please."_

"Help me get her up," Celia ordered her sister. Mei came to her other side, and the two of them helped her struggle to her feet.

Bex's legs were shaking under her weight. Suddenly, her body went rigid, and she gasped with pain. She looked down at her feet in shock. Hot fluid ran down her legs and splashed on Aunt Mei's cream-colored carpet in a puddle.

Aunt Mei gave her a horrified look, but Celia cut her off with a warning glance, daring her to say something. Despite her pain, Bex knew her mom was loving that moment.

* * *

Bex was admitted to the hospital right away. She lay in bed, tense. At this point, her body knew when she was about to have a contraction, and she knew to dread the pain. The dread was almost the worst part. But she knew she was in for a long night; a first baby could take hours, even a full day, to be born, and she was only two centimeters dilated.

"My back hurts so bad," she told her mother. It felt like bands of pain were gripping her. She cried out as another contraction came.

Celia stood beside her bed, keeping an eye on her watch, timing Bex's contractions. "Try to stay calm," she said. "It will be a whole lot easier on you." She rubbed Bex's back, trying to sooth the pain.

* * *

Six hours later, the pain had only become worse. Bex was practically climbing the walls, and in her mind, she was cursing Bowie and the day she ever let him touch her. "I can't do this, mom," she cried. "I can't!" She gripped Celia's sleeve, trembling. "I don't want to do this!"

"Well, it's too late now," Celia hissed. "If you didn't want the pain, you should have kept your legs together."

Another powerful contraction hit, blinding Bex for a moment. "Get out of here!" she shouted wildly at Celia, pointing at the door. "You're not helping me, so just leave! I don't want you in here!"

"Is something wrong?" a nurse asked, looking into the room.

"I want my mother out of here!" Bex screamed irritably.

"Fine. I'll leave," Celia shrugged, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat. "Good luck." She started to turn away.

Bex changed her mind then as yet another contraction gripped her. "Wait mom, don't go! I need you!"

"I think it's time for an epidural," the nurse said quietly. "I'll go order it."

* * *

Ten hours later, Bex felt nearly insane. The pain was constant now, despite the medication she'd been injected with to help manage it. She was eight inches dilated. She was shaking and nauseous. All she wanted was for the baby to get out. If it didn't soon, she honestly thought she would die. She didn't think her body could handle much more trauma.

"Breath, Rebecca," her mother reminded her, gently coaching her. "You're almost there." She rubbed the back of Bex's hand softly.

The doctor examined her. "You're fully dilated," she said. "This baby is ready to be born."

"It is?" Bex asked through her tears.

The woman nodded. "It's time for the hard part. But it's almost over."

Bex gasped. She couldn't imagine anything being harder than what she'd already gone through. She didn't _want_ to imagine it. But as the doctor ordered her to push, and it felt like her body was ripping in half, she knew exactly what the woman had meant.

An hour later, the doctor announced that the baby was crowning. It was now September 28th. "Keep pushing," she said. "We're almost there. I see a neck, and a shoulder."

Bex mustered every bit of strength she had left to push through the pain. She squeezed Celia's hand hard.

Then, there was absolute quiet in the room, as if everyone were holding their breath.

And suddenly, shrill cries pierced the air. It was her baby, Bex realized, breathing a sigh of relief. Those seconds of silence had been the longest of her life, but the baby was out, and she was crying.

"You have a healthy baby girl," the doctor told her. "Congratulations."

A nurse quickly wiped the baby off, and lay her on Bex's bare skin, so they were chest to chest, while Celia cut the umbilical cord. Bex wrapped her arms around the infant protectively, and the baby's crying ceased almost immediately, becoming a soft whimper. "Hi," Bex whispered. "I'm your mama. You're beautiful."

"Does she have a name yet?" the nurse asked.

Bex closed her eyes for a second. "I think- I think I want to name her Andi. A-N-D-I."

As she held Andi close to her heart, she was filled with an intense love, so strong that it filled her eyes with tears that spilled over. This day was bittersweet, because Bowie should have been there with her; she could feel his absence more strongly than ever. But she had her baby at last, and she was happy. Andi was a beautiful reminder of what she and Bowie had shared. She was the essence of their love, made into a little person Bex could hold. She kissed Andi's head softly. "I love you so much." Already, she knew she would die for Andi. She would do anything for the tiny girl wriggling in her arms. She was someone she would love forever.

"She's wonderful, Rebecca," Celia said quietly. She reached down and lightly stroked Andi's soft black hair with her fingertips. "Look at all that hair. And that little button nose." Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"She's perfect," Bex sniffled. She kissed Andi again, pressing her nose to the top of her head, breathing in her soft baby smell.

"Please, may I hold her?"Celia sobbed.

Bex's heart squeezed. "Of course you can, mom." She gave Andi one last kiss, and reluctantly let her mother take the infant gently into her arms. Bex's own arms immediately ached to have Andi back in them. She never wanted to let her go, even for a second.

"Hi, sweetheart," Celia cooed, swaddling the baby in a soft pink blanket. "You're so precious." She cuddled her carefully. "We're so happy to meet you. Welcome to the world."

"What do you think of her name, mom? Do you like it?" Bex asked.

"I wasn't sure about it at first," Celia admitted. "But now that I'm holding her, I couldn't imagine her as anything else. She _is_ Andi."

"Andi Mack," Bex smiled.

* * *

Later, Bex lay in her hospital bed with Andi nestled in her arms, enjoying the quiet while her parents were getting something to eat. She'd just had her first breastfeeding session; Andi had taken to it fast, and now they were resting together. Andi looked up at her through sleepy eyes, and yawned. She was such a good, quiet baby, Bex thought, as she planted a soft kiss on top of her head.

She held Andi's hand, studying her tiny fingers. Her fingernails were so small, they looked like chips of pink seashells. How could anything be that small? Around her wrist, she wore a little hospital bracelet that matched Bex's. It was adorable. Andi was seven pounds, three ounces, and twenty-one inches of cuteness.

Bex smiled as Andi gripped her finger in her little fist. She kissed her round cheek. Her skin was so soft, like silk. "You're the most beautiful baby in the world," she told her.

"I agree."

Bex looked up to see her father. She smiled. "Hi, dad. Where's mom?"

"She's getting a cup of coffee," Ham told her. "She'll be back soon." He came to Bex's bedside and smiled down at Andi. "Well, hello Miss Andi." He bent down and kissed Andi's forehead, then Bex's.

"I think she's ready for a nap," Bex said. "She can barely keep her eyes open."

"She's had a hard day," Ham said. He reached out to brush Bex's hair out of her face. "You both have. How are you feeling, honey?"

"I feel great," she said. "I thought I was going to die when I was a having her, but now I don't even care about the pain."

Her dad laughed. "I hear that's what happens."

"It really is like you said it would be," she told him.

"Whats that?" he asked.

"How much I love her, from the moment I saw her. I didn't know I could love anything so much. It makes me feel almost, I don't know… _dizzy_ , sort of. But not in a bad way. I don't know how I ever lived without her."

Ham laughed. "I told you. There's nothing in the world like seeing your child for the first time."

"I can't believe I'm a mom," she said, her eyes tearing up. She glanced at her camera on the bedside table. "Dad? Will you take a picture of me and Andi before she falls asleep? I want to always remember how she looks right now."

"I'd be happy to." He picked up the old Polaroid and pointed it at Bex. "Smile, and say cheese."

Bex laughed. "Cheese!" She looked down at Andi, grinning as her father snapped a photo. She felt like she was wrapped in a blanket of happiness.

"Do you want me to hold her for a while?" Ham asked. "Give you a chance to rest for a bit?"

Bex nodded. "Okay, dad. Thanks."

He took the baby from Bex, tenderly cradling her in his arms, and sat down in the rocking chair next to the bed. He rocked Andi slowly. "She looks just like you did when you were born," he smiled wistfully. "Gosh, it seems like it was just yesterday I was holding you like this. Then in the blink of an eye, here you are, all grown up. And I'm a grandfather." He sighed contentedly. "But no matter how old you get, this is how I'll always see you. My little baby."

There was no answer from the bed. Ham looked up to see Bex fast asleep.


	17. Chapter 17 Raising Andi

Chapter 17. Raising Andi

Bex held Andi close to her chest, watching her nod off in her arms. Her baby daughter was growing and changing every day. She had Bex's own black hair, and her almond-shaped eyes had darkened from the midnight blue she'd been born with to chocolate brown. But Bex could see a little of Bowie in her too. She had his nose, and his beautifully full lips, and she was adorably pudgy, the way he had been in his baby pictures. To Bex, she was the most perfect baby in the world.

Sadly though, Bex quickly realized that having a baby wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, the way it felt the day Andi was born. Andi cried all night, leaving Bex irritable and sleep-deprived. And deep inside her, her heart ached with unexplainable grief. She cried often, for no reason at all, and her mother just didn't understand. She expected her to bounce back right away and become a full time parent. When Bex couldn't do that, she got annoyed and took over. There were days Bex barely got to spend time with Andi at all, because her mother was so occupied with her. She and Celia fought constantly.

Bex felt most at peace when she could just hold her daughter and stare at her, like she was just then. She could just look at her all day and be perfectly content.

She smiled, watching as Andi made little sucking motions in her sleep, dreaming her little baby dreams. She was so innocent and pure. She didn't know the heartbreak of being human yet. Bex hoped she wouldn't have to learn life's hard truths for a very long time; that she'd stay a trusting, happy baby for as long as possible.

Andi stirred and opened her eyes, gazing up at Bex. Even from the day she was born, she was alert and engaged in everything around her. She had a wisdom about her beyond her age. Bex's father called her an "old soul."

Bex touched the infant's tiny hand with her finger. She smiled when Andi wrapped her dimpled fist around it, gripping it hard.

Bex began to sing softly, hoping to sooth Andi back to sleep.

 _"Take my hand... take my whole life too._

 _For I can't help falling in love with you._

 _Shall I stay?_

 _Would it be a sin?_

 _If I can't help... falling in love with you."_

Bex closed her eyes as hot tears leaked out and ran down her cheeks. Why had she chosen that song?

"You have the most beautiful voice, Bex. I've always thought so."

Bex looked up to see Ham standing in the doorway of the nursery.

"I was just passing by and I heard you singing," he told her. "Please don't stop on account of me," he said softly. "I was enjoying listening."

Bex blinked back tears and nodded.

 _"Like a river flows surely to the sea_

 _Darling so it goes_

 _Some things are meant-"_

She sobbed, unable to go on.

"Oh, honey," her dad sighed, coming in the room and kneeling beside the rocking chair.

"Bowie's never coming back, is he?" she breathed through her tears.

"I don't know, sweetheart," Ham admitted, his heart breaking for his little girl. "I wish I could tell you yes, but I can't."

"But I will tell you what will help you heal," he went on. He touched Andi's tiny foot. "This little girl, right here. Love her enough for both of you. Love her as fiercely as you can, and neither of you will be missing anything."

* * *

Bex was sitting on the couch, watching a rerun of _Kim Possible._ Andi had cried all night, but at that moment, she was laying quietly in her playpen, studying the mobile that hung above it with fascination. She seemed to love everything bright and colorful. Bex glanced at her to make sure she was still content, before stretching out and resting her head on a throw pillow.

"What are you doing?" Celia cried, coming into the room.

"Nothing," Bex said, sitting up. "Just resting a minute."

"Don't have you have anything better to do than lay around and watch cartoons?" her mom asked her. "It's time to grow up. You have a newborn." She turned off the TV. "You should be taking care of her."

"I'm just resting a little!" Bex snapped. "Andi is fine!"

"It's past time for her feeding," Celia reminded her. "It's important that you keep her on a strict schedule."

"I'm _going_ to feed her!" Bex told her mother. "Give me a break! I just pushed a human out of my body. I think I earned the right to rest every now and then." She still didn't feel fully recovered from the trauma of childbirth. She felt weak, and the soreness hadn't gone away when she sat down, or moved a certain way. But her mom didn't seem to care.

"I didn't have someone doing everything for me when I had _you,"_ her mom said. "And I managed to keep you alive. And she should be laying on her stomach!" She went to the playpen and turned Andi over. Andi heaved a little angry puff of air, as if she were annoyed to lose sight of her mobile.

Bex decided to ignore her mom. She didn't feel like fighting. She went to the playpen and looked down at Andi, who was happily gurgling and trying to turn herself back over. _She_ didn't care if Bex was five minutes late with her feeding. "Hi, Andiman," she smiled. "Are you ready for your dinner?"

She bent down and scooped Andi up, feeling her comforting weight in her arms. Andi was so soft and warm, holding her could always cheer Bex up, even when her broken heart hurt the worst. She turned to the stairs.

"Where are you going with her?"

She stopped to look at her mother. "I'm going to feed her in my room. Why?"

"I'd rather you stay down here," Celia said.

"Why?" Bex frowned.

"You could fall asleep and roll over on her," her mother said. "Or she could fall off the bed."

"Mom!" Bex cried. "I'm not an imbecile! It's the middle of the afternoon! I'm wide awake!"

Andi screwed up her face and started howling. Her cheeks flushed bright red. As little as she was, she had powerful lungs.

"You scared her with your yelling, Rebecca!" Celia scolded, reaching for the baby. "Come here, sweetheart. I'm here!"

Bex backed away. "No. _I'm_ taking her upstairs, and _I'm_ feeding her." She hurried away before her mom could stop her.

By the time she reached her bedroom, Andi's cries had softened to tiny whimpers. Bex shushed her rhythmically, locking the door behind her. She put some music on and carried Andi to the bed. The baby also seemed to enjoy music. That was another way she favored Bowie.

"Mama's here," Bex soothed. "Mama!" She made it a point to remind Andi often that she _was_ her mama. Once in a while, Andi gave her a strange look, like she didn't even know who she was, and that scared her.

She played a little game of peekaboo to get Andi to calm down. Then, she opened her shirt and settled back against the pillows with the infant cradled in her arms. Andi's crying ceased as she latched onto Bex and began nursing greedily.

"You're a hungry girl, aren't you?" Bex cooed, smoothing back Andi's downy black hair. Celia had tried to discourage her from breastfeeding after Andi was born, but she was glad she'd stood her ground.

She relaxed against the pillows. "This is my favorite time with you," she told her daughter. "You know why? It's the one thing only _I_ can do for you, and no one else." She paused. "Although mom would probably try if there were a way." She laughed wryly.

Andi responded by kneading Bex's breast with her chubby little hand.

"I wish your daddy could see you," Bex told Andi. "I'm sorry he's not around for you. I know if he saw how pretty, and cute, and roly-poly you are, he would fall in love. How could he not?" She pressed her lips to Andi's soft head. "But you have me. I'll try to be enough."

Sometimes when Bex and Andi were alone together, she imagined a conversation between them, trying to give voice to what Andi would say if she could talk.

"What's your daddy like?" she asked softly. "He's really sweet, really talented, and he's _so_ handsome. He's going to be a rock star, you know. You'd love him as much as he'd love you. And your grandma and grandpa... your daddy's parents, not mine. They're the nicest people you'd ever want to know. Your grandma Cookie would go nuts over you." She smiled picturing Bowie's mom fussing over Andi. She'd be the kind of grandmother who'd bake cookies with Andi, and read her storybooks, and want to be called Nana. Celia refused to be called a grandmother at all. "I hope you get to meet them both someday."

When Andi finished eating, Bex held her against her shoulder and burped her, patting her back gently.

Finally, Andi belched and spit up all over her pink sleeper. "It's okay," Bex laughed. "I don't care if you mess up your clothes. We can just change them."

She took her baby to the nursery and grabbed a clean Onesie, then she lay her on the changing table and dressed her. "All better!" she grinned, tickling Andi's round belly.

Andi gurgled, kicking her short little legs.

Bex laughed. "You're so cute! Mama could just gobble you up!" She bent down to kiss her daughter's cheeks, lips, hands, tummy, legs. She covered her with kisses from head to toe. Andi ate up the attention, squealing.

Bex had gotten so into their game though, that she'd forgotten about the lipstick she was wearing- until she realized that Andi's face and clothes were marred with red lip prints. Her mother was going to kill her. Andi messing up her clothes by accident was one thing, but this was another.

She cleaned Andi's face and hands with a baby wipe, and changed her diaper, which was wet, and then her pajamas again. Then she buried the soiled outfit in the hamper, and carried Andi to her crib.

Once the baby was settled in, she stood over her, watching her fall asleep. "Goodnight beautiful girl," she said petting Andi's head. "I love you so much."

She dropped Andi's dirty diaper in the diaper pail. She'd noticed the diaper drawer was getting empty, and decided to go get another package from the garage. If she didn't refill it, she'd never hear the end of it.

She went downstairs, but she paused in the hallway when she heard her parents talking in the kitchen. Her mother sounded upset. She backed against the doorway to listen.

"I don't trust her alone with that baby, Ham," Celia said, pacing. "Something is going to happen one day."

"What are you so afraid is going to happen?" Ham asked her, his voice it's usual calm.

"Anything," Celia fretted. "You _know_ how irresponsible she is! I'm so afraid she'll drop her, or get frustrated and shake her, or let her get a hold of something dangerous." She was close to tears. "I noticed Andi had a diaper rash when I was changing her last night, so obviously she's not keeping her dry enough."

Bex's eyes stung, and her throat felt tight. She wasn't perfect. But she'd _never_ , ever shake Andi. She'd never do anything to hurt her. She _loved_ Andi, more than life itself. How could her mom think she would harm her baby?

"Celia," Ham said. "She gave birth to Andi. Surely she has some instincts about how to take care of her."

"Rebecca can't even take care of _herself!"_ Celia snapped. "That child needs real adults caring for her. Not another child."

Bex turned away. The diapers could wait. She'd didn't want to have to go through the kitchen. And she didn't want to stick around to hear any more.

Bex went to her bedroom, feeling empty inside. She felt like the worst excuse for a human being in the world. Was she really that bad? She was trying, hard, to be a good mother to Andi. But no matter what she did, she screwed up. Maybe some people weren't meant to be mothers?

She took her memory box from under her bed, and opened the secret compartment. It was fuller now. Along with Bowie's letter and the picture of the two of them, it also held the Polaroid of she and Andi, and their hospital wristbands. She'd keep them forever, so she could always remember the best day of her life. One day, when Andi was big enough to understand, she'd show them to her. Andi would marvel over how small her wrist had been when she was born.

Bex smiled, in spite of her dark mood. It was funny to imagine Andi as a full-grown kid. She pictured the two of them being best friends, like Lorelei and Rory Gilmore, telling each other everything, laughing and crying together, having dozens of inside jokes that no one else understood. That was all she wanted from life. But she was starting to wonder if they'd ever have that.

* * *

"Rebecca, what is this?"

Bex opened her eyes. She must have fallen asleep for a moment. Now her mother was standing in her room with a laundry basket full of baby clothes. She held up a crumpled sleeper covered in lipstick marks. Crap. She'd meant to take care of it before her mom saw it.

"This is a brand new outfit!" Celia scolded her, as if she were a small child. "And look at it. It's ruined!"

"I was _going_ to wash it," Bex told her, climbing out of bed and grabbing it from her mom.

"You're supposed to pretreat the stains right away," Celia said impatiently. "Now they're set in."

"I said I'll take care of it," Bex griped. She went to the bathroom and sprayed some stain remover on the outfit, then ran cold water over it, trying to get out as much of the makeup as she could. The stains only seemed to get worse. She wrung it out and brought it back into the room.

"It's not coming out," she told her mother. "But it's just lipstick. I think it's fine. It's not the end of the world."

"No," said Celia sarcastically. "It's just the end of Andi's clothes." She held up another make-up stained garment as proof.

"She can still wear them," Bex said. "She won't care." Andi was an infant. She only cared about playing with her toes and pooping her diaper.

"Live like a farm animal if you want," Celia said, as she folded Andi's clean laundry. "I won't let you raise Andi that way."

"Um, she's _my_ daughter," Bex reminded her. She'd raise Andi however she wanted.

Celia's lips drew in a tight, tense line. "You can't take care of her. You don't know how!" she snapped.

"Yes, I do!" Bex cried, annoyed.

Her mother gave her a defeated look. "It's not just changing her diaper, Rebecca." She shook her head. "What if she gets strep throat? An ear infection? What if she puts something in her mouth and starts choking?"

Bex gaped at her mother. Here it came.

"Do you know what to do?" Celia asked her.

Bex shook her head, at a loss for words. There was nothing she could say that her mother wouldn't have an argument for. It was true. She _wouldn't_ know what to do. And that was what hurt most, admitting it to herself.

"How can I trust you with her?" Celia said, picking up the basket of clothes. "You can't even do her laundry." She turned a walked out of the room.

Bex closed her eyes, and collapsed on her bed. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She thought her love for Andi could be enough. But maybe it wasn't?


	18. Chapter 18 Baby Crazy

Chapter 18. Baby Crazy

"Peekaboo!" Bex cried, uncovering her eyes. "I see you!"

Andi watched her curiously.

Bex covered her eyes again. "Oh no! Where did Mama go?" She uncovered her eyes. "Here I am!"

She had no idea if Andi understood the game, but she seemed amused. Her dark eyes were trained on Bex, and she kicked her legs happily.

"Rebecca, I'm going to the store," Celia said, coming in the living room.

"Okay," Bex said without looking up.

"You ready to go to the store, Andi?" Celia cooed.

"Wait, mom," Bex said, turning around to look up at her mother. "Why does she have to go with you? I can watch her."

"No way," Celia said. "I can take her. It's no trouble. Is it, sweetie pie?" she added for Andi's benefit.

"But she's fine here," Bex said, confused. "We're having fun together. Why take her out if you don't have to?"

Celia pursed her lips. "I suppose you can handle her for a little while."

"I'm her _mother,"_ Bex said. "I _know_ I can handle her." She realized then that she'd never really been alone with Andi before. One of her parents were always nearby.

Her mother still looked unsure. "Fine. I'll be gone less than an hour. I guess it's okay. Just lay her down in the playpen and sit here with her until I get back." She frowned down at Andi, who was laying on a blanket. "Put some socks on that baby, Rebecca!"

"I _will!_ " Bex said, through gritted teeth. She'd just changed Andi's diaper a minute ago, and was redressing her when they'd gotten distracted by their game.

Celia gave Andi one final, regretful look, as if she were putting her in grave danger. Then, at long last, she left.

Once her mom was gone, Bex breathed a sigh of relief. "She treats me like I'm too dumb to live," she told Andi, as she put clean socks on her tiny feet. "I think I'm capable of watching my own daughter."

Andi responded by drooling.

Bex laughed and gave her a loud kiss. "You'd rather hang out with me than mom anyway, wouldn't you? I'm way more fun!" She tickled Andi's tummy. "Is Mama fun? Huh?"

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Uh-oh. Someone's here!" Bex cooed, tickling Andi's foot. "Let me go see who it is." She picked her up and lay her in the playpen. "Mama will be right back. Yeah! I'll be right back!"

Andi wriggled in her playpen, gurgling happily.

"I'm coming!" Bex called. She hurried to the door and threw it open.

"Emily!" Her eyes widened in surprise. This was the last person she expected to see.

"Hi, Bex," Emily said. Her ex- best friend waved awkwardly. Bex noticed she'd gotten glasses. She looked so much older.

"What are you doing here?" she asked her.

"I'm home from school for the weekend," Emily explained. "I hope you don't mind me stopping by. I just wanted to see you."

"I don't mind," Bex told her, still taken aback. "D- do you want to come in?"

"Okay," the other girl nodded. "Thanks."

Bex stepped aside and let her in. Just then, Andi began to fuss loudly from her playpen.

"Is that a _baby?"_ Emily asked, with surprise in her voice.

"Hold on." Bex rushed back to Andi's playpen and scooped her up, ignoring her mother's orders. "It's okay, cutie pie. I'm here! I've got ya!" She rocked her gently in her arms, trying to calm her, making soft shushing noises.

Emily came closer. "Bex? Who's baby is that? Are you babysitting?"

Bex looked down sheepishly, still rocking Andi. She had to tell Emily the truth. There's was no way she could hide it from her oldest friend. "She's mine."

"Y- you had a baby?" Emily's voice caught in her throat. "When?"

"She was born on September 28th," Bex replied. Andi was gazing up at her through sleepy eyes. She brushed her lips against her forehead lovingly.

"Is she... Bowie's?" Emily seemed to be in a state of shock.

"Of course she's Bowie's," Bex said. "He's the only boyfriend I've ever had."

"Does he know about her?"

She shook her head. "No. And I'd rather keep it that way."

"I need to sit down," Emily said, going to the couch.

Bex bounced Andi gently. "Are you okay?"

"I didn't even know you were pregnant," Emily said. "How did I not know? How could you not have told me? Was it because of our stupid fight?"

Bex joined her friend on the couch, still holding Andi close. "I _wanted_ to tell you, Em. More than anything! But my mom said if I told _anyone_ , even you, she'd kick me out of the house. I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I was scared. And then she sent me away, and you went off to school, and it was too late. I'm sorry."

"Your mom sent you away?" Emily asked, her eyes widening. "That's why you left school?"

She nodded again. "She sent me to my Aunt Mei, so I could have Andi somewhere where no one knows us."

"That's so wrong," Emily said. "How could she do that to you?"

Bex shrugged. "You know how my mom is." She straightened Andi's sock nervously.

Emily looked down at the infant and softened. "So, her name is Andi?"

"Yeah," Bex said, her smile returning. "Do you want to hold her? She's a really good baby. She hardly ever cries."

"Will she puke on me?" Emily asked cautiously.

"No," Bex laughed. "She hasn't had her dinner yet, so she should be fine. Hold out your arms like mine."

Emily crooked her elbows, and Bex carefully lay Andi in her open arms. Emily looked down into Andi's sweet face. "She's so beautiful, Bex. She looks so much like you. But I see a lot of Bowie in her too."

"She reminds me so much of him," Bex confided, wistfully. "My dad says she's an old soul. Bowie was like that too. And she's _so_ smart. I swear she understands everything I say."

"I can tell she's smart," Emily nodded. "So, do you like being a mom?"

"Yeah," Bex replied. "It's overwhelming sometimes, but I wouldn't trade her for anything. I love her so much. I'd do anything for her."

Andi scrunched up her face, and began to fuss again. Emily looked frightened.

"It's okay," Bex said quickly. "She's just not used to seeing people other than the family. I'm just babysitting her while mom's at the store."

"How can you be babysitting your own baby?" Emily asked.

She shrugged. Emily had hit on something uncomfortable, and she wasn't sure she liked it. "Let her hold your finger," she said, changing the subject. "It's the cutest thing."

Emily held her finger out, and Andi grasped it in her little fist and shook it. "This is your Aunt Emily," Bex told her daughter. "Say hi." She waved Andi's little hand for her.

Andi tried to suck on Emily's finger, and both girls laughed. But when Bex looked up, she saw that her friend had tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" she asked.

"I don't know," Emily admitted. "I just feel sad. I wish I'd been there for you."

"Its okay," Bex said. She placed her hand on Emily's back. "I wish you'd been there too. But it's not too late to be friends again. Is it?"

Emily shook her head. "No. It's not too late." She looked down at Andi. "Why is her face turning all red like that?"

Bex blushed. "She's pooping."

"And I'm done holding her," Emily laughed, passing her back to Bex.

Bex took Andi back to the blanket spread on the floor, where her diaper bag was still waiting. She unbuttoned her pajamas, and quickly changed her.

"I really have to get going now," Emily said to her friend. "But listen... you still have my number, right? If you ever need anything, or just want to talk, just give me a call."

Bex nodded. "Thanks, Em. It was nice to see you again."

"It was," the other girl smiled. "Bye, Bex. Bye, Andi."

"Bye," Bex said.

She watched Emily let herself out, feeling sad. It was hard, hearing Emily talk about college, and seeing how independent she'd become. When they were kids, they'd always talked about growing up and sharing an apartment someday. But now, Emily had moved on, and Bex was a mother, and none of that would ever happen. She felt left behind.

Then she looked down at Andi's sweet little face, and smiled. Andi was worth any sacrifice. She picked her up and lay her down in the playpen, just before her mother walked in the door, carrying bags of groceries.

"Is Andi okay?" she asked, first thing.

"Andi's fine, mom," Bex sighed.

"Did you have any problems?" she eyed her daughter suspiciously.

"Nope," Bex told her. "We just sat here and stared at each other, like you told us to."

"Funny," Celia said, setting her bags in the kitchen.

"Since everything went so smoothly," Bex ventured. "I decided I want more responsibility with Andi."

"What?"

"I want to do more for her," Bex said. "I want to prove to you that I can take care of her."

Celia studied her thoughtfully. Finally, she said, "We'll see."

Bex nodded. She knew it was as close to a yes as she was ever going to get. She'd take it.

* * *

"What are you guys doing?" Bex asked, coming into the kitchen.

"Just getting ready to give Andi her bath," Celia said, tickling the baby's tummy.

Andi was wrapped in a pink hooded towel with bunny ears. She looked so sweet, Bex's heart she felt a familiar pang of jealousy as well, as she watched Andi snuggle against her mother. "Could- do you think _I_ could give her her bath?" she asked tentatively.

"You've never done it before," Celia told her. "Why don't you just watch this time?"

"You said I could have more responsibility with Andi!" Bex protested. "Remember?"

"I said 'we'll see,' Rebecca," Celia said. "Andi's used to the way I do it, and she's a little fussy today. Maybe next time."

"Why can't she give her her bath?" Ham asked, coming into the kitchen. He took a beer from the fridge.

He stopped to smile at Andi. "How's my little munchkin?" he asked, tickling her under the chin. Bex noted that Andi didn't seem the least bit fussy.

"She doesn't know what she's doing," his wife told him, as if her daughter weren't even in the room. "Andi's a real baby, not a doll."

"She'll never learn anything if you don't give her a chance to try," he said. "Come on, Celia. You have been baby crazy since Andi was born. I love her too, I get it. But you need to take it down a notch. You can't monopolize her like this."

"But-"

He shushed her. "Come in the living room with me and relax. Let Bex do this."

"Ham-"

He took Andi from his wife and gave her to his daughter. Then he put his hand on Celia's shoulder. "Please?"

"Fine," she sighed. She turned back to Bex. "Don't fill the sink more than a few inches. And do not take your eyes or hands off of her for a second. I mean it. Infants can drown in less than an inch of water, Rebecca. It takes just a moment of carelessness to make a mistake you'll regret for the rest of your life..."

"I know, mom."

"Celia, please," Ham said, nudging her toward to doorway. "Honey, we'll be in the living room. Holler if you need anything."

Once they were out of the room, Bex faced the sink, holding Andi. She was now so nervous, she was shaking. There was a lump in her stomach, and her heart was pounding. She balanced Andi in one arm, and turned on the faucet with the other. Water began to cover the bottom of the sink.

When the sink was full enough, she turned the tap off and swished her hand in the warm water. "Okay, Andi," she breathed. "You ready?"

She lowered the baby into the sink. As soon as Andi's feet touched the water, she started howling. Celia was in the room in a flash.

"What happened? Andi!"

"I don't know, mom," Bex said, trembling. I was just putting her in the water-"

Celia stuck her elbow in the sink. "This water is too hot, Rebecca!"

"But I tested it and it felt fine!" Bex said.

"Her skin is a lot more sensitive than yours is!" Celia shouted. "The water shouldn't be hotter than room temperature. Look at her feet! They're pink!"

Bex began to cry. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." She'd wanted so badly for this to go well, and she'd blown it again. And she'd hurt Andi. That was the worst part.

"Give her to me and go upstairs," Celia ordered. "I knew this was a bad idea."

Defeated, Bex passed Andi to her mother, and walked away.

* * *

Celia pushed Andi down Main Street in her stroller. It was a mild day, and the baby wore a polka dotted sunhat tied under her chin, to shade her eyes. "You were a good girl at the post office, sweetie," she told the infant, as they walked. She'd found Andi laying in her crib, bored. Rebecca was nowhere in sight. So she had made the quick decision to take Andi out for a while.

Andi was a joy. She was the calmest, most easygoing baby Celia had ever known, and she was head over heels in love with her. She'd loved being a mother to a baby; Rebecca's baby days were the happiest time in her life. And Rebecca had been a lot like Andi; bright, loving, and sweet. Their relationship was wonderful, until her daughter learned how to talk- and mouth back. Then, everything changed.

She stopped the stroller, and adjusted the baby's pink blanket. "There you go, my little love," she chirped, kissing Andi on the cheek.

"Celia?"

Celia turned to see Leslie Goodman coming toward her, pushing a stroller of her own. She groaned internally. Leslie was the most gossipy woman in town. Celia had sold her her home the year before, and they were friendly with each other, but they weren't really friends.

She smiled cordially. "Leslie! How wonderful to see you!"

"Same!" the other woman smiled. "It's been too long!"

Andi's pacifier fell out of her mouth, and she began to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," Celia said, swooping down to pick her up. She patted her bottom, trying to sooth her.

"She is precious!" Leslie gushed.

"Thank you!" Celia smiled. "This is Andi."

"This is Cyrus," the other woman told her proudly. The baby boy in her stroller was about Andi's age, with a thick head of dark hair. He was dressed like a little old man, with an argyle sweater vest and tiny trousers. He had big, serious, dark brown eyes. He stared up at Andi curiously.

"How adorable!" Celia said. "I can't get over all that hair!"

"There must be something in the water in this town," Leslie told her. "I hear Pat Driscoll is expecting a little one, too."

"Oh?" Celia said politely, as she popped Andi's pacifier back in her mouth. She didn't know the Driscolls well. They were a young couple, new to town from Phoenix. Then it hit her. _She thinks I'm Andi's mother,_ she realized. There was no way Leslie Goodman could find out that Andi really belonged to Celia's seventeen year old daughter. It would be all over town within the hour. After everything she'd gone through to hide the truth, she couldn't let that happen to her family.

"She's our little miracle," Celia said, choosing her words carefully. "Especially at this point in our lives." There. She kept it simple, told the other woman what she wanted to hear, and it wasn't untrue. Disaster aborted.

"I wish my figure bounced back as fast as yours," Leslie said. "I put on almost fifty pounds with this one." She looked down at her son. "Cyrus! You lost your shoe again, silly boy!" She knelt down to put the baby's little brown loafer back on his tiny foot.

Celia laughed politely. "Well, we really must be going now. It's almost time for Andi's nap."

"We should get them together for a play date one of these day," the other woman offered.

"That would be lovely," she smiled. Suddenly, she was eager to get away. "We'll set something up." She put Andi back in her stroller and hurried away.

As they headed toward home, Celia felt a pang of guilt. But she was also surprised by how easy it had been to lie.

* * *

"Where have you been?" Bex stared her mother down, her arms crossed over her chest. She grabbed Andi from Celia's arms.

"I had to run some errands," Celia said nonchalantly. "Is that a crime?"

"You took Andi without asking me!" Bex accused. "How do you think it made me feel when I couldn't find her? I was worried sick!" She had been frightened when she went to check on the baby, only to find her missing from her crib. All kind of terrible thoughts had gone through her head, mainly that her daughter had been kidnapped. Then, she realized that her mother was gone too, along with the stroller, and put two and two together. She was relieved Andi was safe, but she was still furious.

"You weren't even watching her!" her mother said. "I'm surprised you even noticed she was gone."

"I was taking a nap!" Bex cried. "And so was she!" The baby book her mother had given her _herself_ instructed her to take naps when the baby did. And she needed one. She'd been up all night with Andi.

"Well, she was awake when I found her," Celia said, as she folded the stroller.

"I can't even look at you right now," Bex said. She handed Andi back to Celia. "Here Andi. Go to _grandma."_

Her mother gave her a hard look. "Don't ever call me that again."

"You're crazy," Bex muttered. She turned to the stairs and went to her room, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Later, Bex was still feeling bitter. She lay on her bed, reading a magazine and eating dry cereal. It wasn't much of a dinner, but she didn't care, so long as she didn't have to see her mother.

As if her thoughts had summoned her, Celia came walking into her room. Without knocking, naturally. "Hello," she said in a sing-song voice, as if nothing had happened just an hour before. That was how her mother had always been. She'd instigate a fight, then try to act like she was completely innocent.

"Your father and I are having dinner," Celia said, sitting down on the bed. "Would you like to join us?"

"Nah, I'm good," Bex replied, without even looking at her.

Celia sighed. "So, have you decided what you want to do about school?"

"When I do, you'll be last to know," Bex said sarcastically, waving her hand in the air. Recently, the subject of getting her GED had come up, but she'd given little thought to it.

"I'm happy to take care of Andi so you can get an education," Celia told her cheerfully.

"You're not raising her!" Bex snapped.

Celia shook her head. "I'm just trying to help."

"You had your chance to raise a daughter, and you blew it," Bex accused. "She's not your do-over."

"Rebecca," Celia sighed, defeated. "It doesn't have to be like this."

Bex gave her a stubborn look, refusing to respond.

"I'll leave a plate for you in the fridge," her mother told her. She stood up and walked away.

Bex went back to her magazine. Her mother had tried to smooth things over, but it wouldn't be that easy. The damage had already been done.


	19. Chapter 19 The Worst Day

Chapter 19. The Worst Day

Celia held Andi on her lap, bouncing her gently to keep her calm. They were in the doctor's office waiting room, waiting for Andi to be called for her six-month check up.

Bex looked at them longingly. Andi was _her_ baby. _She_ should be holding her, not her mother. Lately, more so than ever, her mother was taking her over, and the tension between them weighed on Bex's shoulders constantly. She clenched her jaw angrily.

With nothing to keep her hands busy, she picked up a _Highlights_ magazine from six years earlier, and roughly flipped through it. She was reading _Goofus and Gallant_ , when a nurse finally came out.

"Andi Mack?" she called.

"Right here," Celia answered. She stood up, holding Andi to her shoulder. "Are you ready to see the doctor, sweetie?"

Bex followed them into the exam room. Celia lay Andi on the table and removed her sweet little mint green sleeper, so she was wearing just her diaper. The doctor weighed and measured Andi, and listened to her lungs and heart, and checked her reflexes. Andi took it all in surprisingly well. The doctor asked questions about her as he examined her, and Celia answered him, without even giving Bex a chance to speak.

"She's a perfectly normal and healthy six-month old," the doctor finally announced, smiling at Andi as she babbled, reaching for his stethoscope. She was _so_ close to saying her first word, and curious about everything around her. "If you'll just sign these forms, Mrs. Mack, we'll give her her shots."

Bex's stomach sunk to her feet, and she spoke up for the first time since arriving at the doctor's office. "She has to get shots?"

"I'm going to give her all the vaccinations she's due for in two shots," the doctor told her. "I'll do them quickly, and she'll be fine. Don't worry."

"But she's just a baby!" Bex said. She felt as if she might cry, knowing that her baby was about to be hurt. She could hardly handle shots herself. And Andi was so tiny, and her skin was so delicate.

"Stop it, Rebecca," Celia softly but firmly scolded. "She'll be fine."

"Listen to mom," the doctor winked. "She knows best."

Bex winced as she watched him prepare the syringes. Andi looked so little and vulnerable sitting there on the table, not knowing what was about to happen. Bex looked away, feeling faint, as the doctor plunged the first needle into her daughter's chubby little thigh.

Andi screamed bloody murder, and Bex shot up. "Stop! You're hurting her!"

Andi's face was bright red, all the way to the tips of her ears, and fat tears ran down her cheeks. She wailed at the top of her lungs. Bex felt her own eyes well up, while Celia stayed perfectly stoic. Didn't she have a heart? You had to be completely heartless not to feel bad for a helpless little baby crying like that. It was gut wrenching. Bex never wanted to see her daughter that upset again.

"Rebecca, sit down!" Celia ordered, as if she were a small child.

Bex retreated, pouting, as the doctor administered Andi's second shot. By then, Andi was crying so hard she was practically choking on her tears.

Celia patted the baby's back and rocked her. "It's alright now, sweetie pie. It's all over," she soothed. "No more ouchies."

Andi hiccuped. Her face was blotchy and her bottom lip stuck out as if she were ready to burst into tears again at a moment's notice.

Bex felt an ache in her heart, watching her mother comfort her daughter. It was as if she weren't even in the room. She hated that left-out feeling. When Andi was born, it had felt like it was the two of them against the world. She'd carried Andi for nine months, but when Celia had Andi, Bex felt completely shut out.

Celia redressed Andi, talking to her in baby-talk. "This is for you," the doctor smiled, handing Bex a red lollipop. "For being so brave."

Bex begrudgingly took it from him and unwrapped it, shoving it in her mouth.

* * *

"What is your problem?" Celia asked when they got home for the doctor. She was unstrapping Andi's car seat, her back turned to her daughter. "You've been acting miserable all day."

"You're my problem!" Bex snapped, taking the carrier from her mother. "I'm sick of you hogging Andi!"

"I'm not _'hogging'_ her," her mother argued. "And if anyone should be angry, it's me."

"Oh, and why is that?" Bex challenged.

"You acted like a fool at the doctor's office," Celia told her, huffily. "I was so embarrassed!"

"At least I cared that Andi was getting hurt!" she snapped.

"Andi could pick up on your emotions, you know," her mother informed her. "That's why she was so stressed! Sometimes children need a parent who can be strong for them. Not just a playmate!"

"You're _not_ her parent!" Bex cried. "I don't know if you're trying to recapture your youth or whatever, but Andi is _my_ baby."

"You're just lucky you have me around to help out," Celia said sharply, but low enough that no one could overhear them "I could have thrown you out when you got pregnant, but I didn't, for Andi's sake."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Bex spat.

"You couldn't take care of her without me!" she told her. "If you were raising her alone, she would be completely neglected."

Bex felt her face redden with anger. She handed her mother the carrier. "Here, Andi. Go to your _grandma."_

"Don't you ever call me that again," her mother snapped, as she followed her into the house.

The arguing continued. The longer it went on, the more Bex poured out the anger and resentment she'd been bottling up. And her mother argued back. Finally Bex couldn't stand it anymore. She went upstairs to her room. To her annoyance, Celia followed close behind.

"From now on, when Andi has a check up, _I'm_ taking her," Bex told her mother, angrily. "Not you. Just me."

"You're overreacting!" Celia cried, brushing off her daughter's feelings as usual.

"The pediatrician doesn't even know _I'm_ her mother," Bex pointed out. If _anyone_ had been embarrassed at the doctor's office, it was her.

"Of course he does," Celia said nonchalantly.

Bex's eyes widened in disbelief. Was her mother that delusional? "He gave _me_ a lollipop." She rolled her eyes. The doctor had spoken to her like she was all of five years old. He'd obviously thought Andi was her baby sister. Anyone could see that.

"For being brave when Andi was getting her shots. Which you _weren't,_ by the way" Celia reminded her.

"Knock knock!" Ham called from the hallway, interrupting their argument.

"What is it, Ham?" Celia asked, annoyed. "We're in the middle of something."

"I think you left something in the hallway by the coat rack," he said, coming into the room. In his arms, he held baby Andi.

Both Bex and Celia's eyes widened with realization, and their mouths dropped open in horror.

"She was still strapped into her car seat," Ham said in a disappointed voice.

"What? I thought you had her," Bex said. Her mom's voice chimed in, saying something similar. They began to argue about who had had Andi last.

"How long was she there?" Ham asked them.

"Since we got back from the doctor..." Bex realized, her stomach dropping. How could they have both been so caught up in their argument that they had completely forgotten about the baby? The person they were arguing _about?_

"That was forty minutes ago," Celia breathed, her voice thick with worry.

"I'll take her," they both said, reaching for Andi at once.

Suddenly, a little voice piped up. "Ma-ma."

They all turned to Andi, shocked. "Did you hear that?" Ham asked. "Did she just say her first word?"

"Mama," Bex said, smiling. She was so happy, she felt faint. And she was proud of Andi, she felt as if she might cry. "She said _'Mama.'"_ She looked down at Andi. "Say it again. Mama. _Mama,"_ she gently urged.

Andi looked from face to face, confused by all the attention. Her eyes fell on Celia. "Ma-ma," she babbled, reaching out for her grandmother.

Celia gasped with delight, and Bex's face fell. "Aww," her mother said, reaching for Andi. She took her from her husband. "Andi, I'm sorry," she cooed. "I'm so sorry. Do you forgive us, baby?"

Bex looked on in disbelief, her heart broken.

 _"Bex,"_ Ham sighed, meeting his daughter's eyes.

She shook her head. "It's fine." Her face crumpled. "I just need a minute." She turned and left the room before her parents could see her tears.

* * *

Later that afternoon, after Bex had cooled down, she looked into Andi's nursery. The baby was in her crib, quietly playing with a soft rattle. She tiptoed in, and picked Andi up and cuddled her against her chest. "Hi, baby. How are you feeling?" Andi had been fussy and had a low grade fever after her shots, but she seemed to be feeling better after a nap.

Bex kissed the infant on the cheek and brought her to the rocking chair, sitting her in her lap so she faced her. "Andi, you know I'm your Mama, right?" She looked deep into the baby's dark eyes. "Mama," she said, pointing to herself. "Can you say it? Mama?"

Andi babbled a little, and Bex held her breath, but nothing resembling "mama" came out of the little girl's mouth.

"Please, Andiman," she pleaded. "You said it before. Just say it once. For me. _Mama!"_

She sighed, watching and waiting as Andi stare at her, confused. She knew it wasn't the baby's fault. Andi was only six months old. But it still hurt.

"Bah," Andi finally said.

"Bah, yourself," Bex said, kissing the tip of Andi's nose. She brought Andi back to her crib and lay her down, then put the crib rail back in place.

* * *

Later, Bex was on the couch, reading, when Andi started crying loudly.

"You going to go check on her?" Ham asked his daughter, from the armchair where he sat, flipping through the paper.

"The 'Mother of the Year' will get her," Bex said bitterly, turning the page. She was still feeling hurt and resentful toward her mother for earlier. If she wanted to take over Andi, let her. She could do everything if she wanted.

Andi's cries continued.

"I'm just going to take a look," Ham said, his face drawn with concern.

He ran upstairs. A moment later, Bex heard him call her, then Celia.

Bex's heart began to pound hard in her chest. She raced up to Andi's nursery, gasping for breath. Celia was already in the room, standing beside her husband, in tears. "What's wrong?" she cried breathlessly, reaching for the support of the door frame. Her blood pounded in her ears.

Andi was scarlet, screaming in Ham's arms.

"I found her trapped between the mattress and the crib rail," he breathed. "The rail must not have been secured well enough."

"Were you in here?" Celia asked, looking her in the eye intensely. "Did you touch the crib?"

Ham and Celia looked to Bex, waiting for answer. Her legs went weak and her stomach dropped. "I was just playing with her." Her heart sunk and tears filled her eyes. "I thought I locked it!"

"I knew it had to be you. No one else would be so senseless!" Celia burst into fresh tears. She sobbed hard, her shoulders shaking. "What is wrong with you? This is unforgivable, Rebecca. I thought Andi was dead!"

"Dad!" Bex pleaded. "I didn't mean to hurt Andi! I'm sorry!"

"You have to be more careful, Bex!" Ham said. His face was red with anger. "Infants _have_ died this way!" He reached out to rub his wife's shoulder, comforting her. "It's okay, Celia. She's going to be fine."

Bex felt as if the floor had dropped out from under her. Celia's words, which had been haunting her for months, came back to her once again. _It takes just a moment of carelessness to make a mistake you'll regret for the rest of your life..._

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed again, choking on her tears. "I'm sorry, Andi."

"You're very, very lucky I got to her in time," Ham said gravely. He'd never looked so angry with Bex, ever. "It could easily have been too late."

Bex reached for the baby, wanting to hold her, and feel her warmth. She wanted to hug her and never let her go again. But Celia took the baby from her husband, holding her protectively to her chest. "Stay away! I don't want you _near_ this baby."

What?" Bex's voice trembled.

 _"Celia,"_ Ham sighed. "Take a deep breath before you say something you'll regret."

"I mean it!" his wife cried. "Look what her carelessness almost caused! This is the last straw." She took a shallow, shaky breath, closing her eyes for a moment, and turned back to Bex. "Get out! I want you out of my house by morning!"

"But Andi-"

"Andi isn't going anywhere," her mother said sharply. "She isn't safe with you! You're an unfit mother, and I will fight you for custody if I have to." She turned to her husband. "I think we should take the baby to the emergency room to be safe."

Andi was still crying, in wailing bursts. Her face was puffy and blotchy.

"I think that's a good idea," Ham said. He gave his daughter a regretful look.

Tears ran down Bex's cheeks, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. How could everything go so terribly wrong so fast?

"Start packing," Celia said firmly, carrying Andi to the door.

Ham turned to Bex. "She'll cool down, honey. She's just upset. She doesn't know what she's saying right now. Just give her time." But Bex could see that the usual warmth in his eyes wasn't there. She knew he was just as disgusted with her as her mother was, even if he wouldn't admit it. He wanted her gone too. The whole world was against her.

Bex watched them carry Andi away. Then, she sunk down to her knees and cried harder than she'd ever cried before.

* * *

By the time everyone was sleeping, Bex's things were all packed. Her parents had returned from the hospital with Andi around dinnertime, and no one had even spoken to Bex, and she hadn't spoken to them.

It was after midnight now, and was ready to go. But she couldn't leave without seeing Andi one more time, no matter what her mother said. She quietly went into the nursery, where Andi slept in her crib.

Seeing her there, she felt a fleeting sense of panic, as she relived that afternoon in her mind. She was almost afraid to touch the baby, scared she might hurt her again. But she had to say goodbye. Andi was the most important person in the world to her, no matter what happened. She didn't know when she would see her again, and she had to make the most of their last moments together.

She leaned over the crib rail, carefully and silently. There was no way she was going to touch it. Andi had come home from the hospital with a clean bill of health; just a few bruises on her legs and back, but she wasn't about to take any chances. Gently, she smoothed her hand over Andi's soft head of hair.

Andi stirred a little, opening her eyes. "Hi, baby," Bex cooed in a quiet whisper. She picked the infant up and cradled her in her arms, breathing in her soft baby-scent. She wanted to always remember what Andi smelled like, what her warm little head felt like pressed against her cheek.

"My precious girl," she whispered, trying to keep Andi calm, so she wouldn't cry and wake up Ham and Celia. She carried her to the rocking chair and sat down, so Andi could nurse one more time. Tears sprung to her eyes. She was going to miss this time with her baby so much. She wondered if Andi would miss it too.

She studied every detail of Andi while the baby suckled on her sleepily; her perfectly shaped little mouth, her tiny nose and wispy black hair, her dimpled hands. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she whispered, pressing her chin to Andi's head. "But I have to leave. I might not see you again for a long time. Mama's going to miss you so much."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and dripped on Andi's pajamas. She reminded herself once again that she was putting Andi's needs before her own, as much as it was breaking her heart. "It's not that I don't love you, baby," she went on, softly. "I'm leaving because I _do_ love you. You need more than I can give you. I can't take care of you. I hope you'll understand."

Andi reached up to touch Bex's lips while she nursed, and Bex kissed her pudgy little hand. "Mama will always love you, Andi. Please don't forget me."

She shifted Andi to her shoulder, patting her back as she cried silently. "I have to go now, sweetheart." She kissed Andi's face all over, and carefully lay her back down in the crib.

Seeing her baby there, so innocent, she had the urge to grab her and run. But she knew in her heart that there was no way she could take Andi with her. She couldn't afford to take care of her, and there was nowhere to put her on a motorcycle. Besides, she was an unfit mother. She couldn't keep Andi safe. Andi had been okay this time, but next time she might not be so lucky. Andi was better off without her. Ham and Celia would take good care of her. Of that, Bex had no doubt. They loved her as much as she did. And Andi would grow up happier, without all the constant negativity and fighting in the house. She reminded herself of these things over and over. Still, it was hard to turn away.

"Goodbye, Andi," she whispered, blowing the baby a kiss. "I love you."

She turned away, shouldering her duffel bag, and went out into the dark night.


	20. Chapter 20 Memory Box

Chapter 20. Memory Box

Bex had rode through the night and most of the next day, wanting to get as far away from home as possible before sunrise. She was tired and hungry, scared and lonely.

When early evening fell, she stopped for gas, and saw a small truck stop across the street, bright with neon signs. Her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten since the cold pizza she'd gotten from the fridge, while her parents were at the hospital with Andi. She winced, thinking once again about Andi. There was a hole in her heart that ached every time she thought about her sweet baby. She stuffed the bad feelings deeper down inside of her, and headed into the diner.

It looked like every roadside greasy spoon she'd ever seen on TV and in movies. A checked tile floor, a counter with stools lined up in front of it, and a cook grilling on a flat top. She set her duffel bag down and slipped onto a stool, resting her elbows on the counter, massaging her temples with her fingertips.

"Can I get you something?"

Bex looked up. A waitress stood over her, holding an order pad. She eyed Bex curiously, a sad frown bringing out small wrinkles around her lips. "Huh?"

"Do you want to order something, honey?"

Bex reached for her wallet. "Yeah. I'll have a coffee and a cheeseburger. Please," she added, remembering to be polite, the way her mother had always drilled into her. Her eyes stung, thinking about her mom. She turned her head away quickly to hide her tears.

The waitress's frown deepened, as she gave Bex's order to the cook. "Are you alright, honey?" she asked, as she went back to filling salt and pepper shakers.

Bex nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," the older woman observed. "Where are you headed all alone?"

Bex shrugged. "Nowhere."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty," she lied, as the woman set her coffee in front of her. She drew her shoulders in further, as if to build a shelter around herself.

"Twenty," the waitress nodded, as if she didn't really believe her. She took a slice of cherry pie from the dessert case. "Here. It's on the house."

"Thank you," Bex said, surprised. She dug in hungrily.

"You're welcome," the waitress said with a small smile. She sighed. "Maybe it's none of my business, but I have a daughter about your age. And if she were in your place right now, I'd hope someone would tell her to go home." Bex's order came up, and the woman set her plate in front of her. "Go home, honey."

"I can't," Bex choked in a soft whisper. She grabbed her things, leaving a few crumpled bills on the counter, and hurried away.

There was a payphone in the parking lot. She'd left her cell phone at home, so her parents couldn't get in touch with her. She went to the phone booth, taking a slip of paper out of her wallet, and put a quarter in the change slot. Then she punched in the number that was written on the paper in familiar handwriting, hoping someone would answer.

"Hello?" a voice said on the other end. The line was crackly with static, but the voice at the other end was comforting.

"Emily?" Bex said. "It's me. Bex."

 _"Bex?"_ her friend asked. "Are you okay? Why does your voice sound so weird?"

"I'm on a payphone," she told her, trying to keep the tears that were running down her cheeks out of her voice. "I'm a few miles away. I messed up, and I need a place to stay."

"Bex..." Emily said. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"I'll explain when I get there," she quickly told her. "Please, can I stay with you for a little while?"

"I guess so," Emily said. "I don't think my roommate will mind if you sleep on our couch for a few days..." she paused. "I don't have a place for Andi to sleep, though. That's the only problem."

Bex felt a lump form in her throat. "Andi isn't with me."

"Where is she?" her friend asked.

"I'll explain when I get there," Bex told her. "I have to hang up now. See you soon?"

"See you soon," Emily said.

After Bex had hung up with her friend, she was about to turn away, but she stopped. She dug her fingers into her pocket, and found another quarter. Her hands shook as she dropped it in the slot. Before she could change her mind, she dialed her home phone number. It rang just twice before someone picked up on the other end.

"Hello?" Ham's voice came over the line with a wave of static.

Bex opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue felt paralyzed. Her eyes filled with fresh tears.

"Bex? Bex! Is that you?" her father said. He sounded so worried. "Answer me, Rebecca!"

"It's me, dad," she finally managed to choke out. She never imagined it would be so hard to hear his voice. "Hi."

"Hi?" he asked. "Is that all you have to say? Where are you? Are you okay?"

In the background, Bex could hear Andi screaming. She was probably hungry, and she'd never eaten from a bottle before. Bex's heart squeezed with guilt and shame. No matter what she did, it was always the most selfish decision. "I'm fine, dad," she said. "Don't worry about me."

"Of course I'm worried," her father said. "Please, Bex, come home. Tell me where you are, and I'll come get you. No questions asked. It doesn't matter. We just want you home."

"I can't come home," she said, shakily. It was getting harder to hide the tears in her voice. "Everyone is better off without me. Mom and I can't get along, and I'm a terrible mother."

"That's not true, baby," Ham told her. There were tears in his voice, and she knew he was crying too. "Bex... we can work things out as a family. We'll all try harder."

"Mom hates me," she sniffled. "She doesn't want me anymore."

"Your mom doesn't hate you," he said. "She wants you home, too. She can't even get out of bed, she's so upset. She didn't mean the things she said, honey. We're both worried sick about you. We miss you. And so does Andi."

"Andi doesn't miss me," she said softly. "She doesn't even know who I am."

"She hasn't stopped crying since she woke up this morning, Bex," her father told her. "I can't calm her down. Neither can your mother."

"She'll be fine," Bex said, trying to sound nonchalant as the hole in her heart widened.

"She needs her _mother,"_ Ham said firmly. "Please, Bex. Just come home."

"I can't," Bex said, sobbing softly. "Please, dad. Take care of Andi for me. Tell her I love her, and I'm sorry."

"Bex!" her dad shouted into the phone. "Rebecca Anne, don't you dare hang up on me!"

"I'll call you when I get settled," she said quickly. "I love you, dad."

She hung up the phone before he could say any more. Then, she got on her motorcycle, and rode off, towards her new life.

* * *

It was completely dark when she got to Emily's apartment door, in the student-housing complex where she lived. She rang the bell. The door opened, and she immediately fell into her best friend's arms. "Oh, Emily," she sobbed, hanging onto her friend.

"Bex," Emily whispered, stroking her back. "It's okay. It's going to be okay." She held her tighter. "Come inside."

Bex followed her friend into the apartment. Another girl, tall with olive skin, stood nearby. Bex assumed she was Emily's roommate. She eyed Bex suspiciously, her arms folded over her chest.

"Bex, this is Tori," Emily said softly. "Tori, this is my friend Rebecca, or Bex. Whatever you want to call her."

"She's not supposed to be here," Tori told Emily. "We could get in a lot of trouble for having her here."

"That's why we're not going to _tell_ anyone," Emily said sharply. "She's my best friend, and she needs me right now."

"She can't stay more than a week," Tori said. "Unless she plans to pay rent."

"I can give you some money if you want," Bex said quietly. All she had in her wallet was a few hundred dollars, her life savings. She realized she couldn't afford to give it away, not knowing whether or not she'd need it soon, but it was obvious that Tori didn't want her around, and if money would help smooth things over, it would be worth it.

"You don't owe us anything," Emily said. A soaking rain had started to fall just when Bex had pulled into the complex's parking lot, and she looked like a drowned rat. Emily helped her pull off her leather jacket, which stuck to her arms like a second skin. "Why don't you take a shower. I'll get you some dry pajamas to wear, and make us some tea. Then we can talk."

"Sounds good," Bex mumbled.

"The bathroom is right in there," Emily pointed. "There's clean towels in the cupboard. I'll bring you some clothes in."

"Thanks," she said. She let herself into the bathroom. It was small, the counter littered with cosmetics. She peeled off her wet clothes. Not knowing where to put them, she left them on the tile floor. Then she turned the water on and let it warm up until the mirrors started to steam up. She got in, letting the hot water wash away the grime from her trip, and the chill that had settled into her bones with the rain.

As the water pounded in her ears, she relived her phone call with her dad. All she could hear were Andi's wails. There was nothing more in the world she wanted right then, than to snuggle up in her warm bed with her baby, and feel Andi fall asleep against her chest. But she couldn't have that anymore. She wondered if she'd ever see Andi again.

She sobbed hard, hoping the sound of the water muffled her cries. She sunk down on the shower floor, hugging her knees to her chest. It was a relief to finally let all of her tears out, where they would immediately be washed away.

"Bex?"

Bex lifted her head from her knees at the sound of her friend's voice.

"Bex, I set some pajamas on the counter," Emily said. "Are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine," Bex sniffled.

"I wouldn't stay in there too long," Emily warned her. "I'm just looking out for you. Tori is already bitching about you using up the hot water."

"I'll be right out," Bex said.

She heard Emily sigh sadly. "I'll leave you alone now."

After her friend left the room, Bex quickly washed her stringy hair, and turned off the shower. She stepped out onto the tiled floor and dried herself off, then wrapped the towel around her head. The t-shirt and pajama pants Emily had left her fit strangely. The pants were a little too short, and she had to tighten the drawstring around her waist. The top was baggy in the chest. But they'd do.

Once she was dressed, she shyly left the room. Emily was in the kitchenette, pouring hot water into two mismatched mugs. "Tori went to her room to study," she said. "You don't have to be nervous. Do you want to talk in my room?"

"That sounds good," Bex nodded.

Emily picked up the mugs and Bex followed her to her bedroom. Emily climbed onto her twin bed and patted the narrow space next to her. Bex climbed up beside her. As far back as their friendship went, they'd always talked, holed up on one or the other's bed. It was comforting doing the same now.

Emily took Bex's hand and squeezed it. "Bex, what happened? Where is Andi?"

Her resolve to stay calm didn't last long, as she broke down once again. "Andi's with my parents," she sobbed. "I screwed up, Em."

"Oh, Bex." Emily took her in her arms and held her, trying to sooth her as she cried.

Slowly, Bex managed to tell the whole, awful story. "My mom kicked me out. She said she would get custody of Andi if I didn't leave. She said I'm an unfit mother. I'm a monster, Emily."

Emily shook her head. "You're not a monster, Bex. Don't say that! What you've been doing, being a mom... I couldn't handle all that, either."

"You'd be better at it than me," she said, defeated. "Animals take better care of their babies than me."

"You're only seventeen," Emily reminded her. "Celia should have shown you _how_ to be a mother. If this is anyone's fault, it's hers."

"It's my fault," she said. "I'm the one who always had to pick a fight. I'm the one who didn't lock the crib rail."

"I wish you'd never met Bowie," Emily admitted. "I mean, I wouldn't wish Andi away. She was born for a reason. But look at the mess you're in. He should be here, dealing with this with you. He's the one who got you pregnant."

"It's not fair to blame him either," she said. "I'm stupid, and immature. I created this mess myself."

"You're _seventeen,"_ Emily reminded her again. She reached for another hug. "It's going to be okay, Bex. But you need to forgive yourself."

"I'll never forgive myself," Bex whispered. "I _hate_ myself. I abandoned my _daughter."_

 _"Bex."_

"Is it okay if I just go to bed?" she asked. "I'm exhausted."

"Okay," her friend said sadly. "I'll get you some blankets."

Bex drained the rest of her tea and followed Emily to the living room. Her friend made up a bed on the couch. "Goodnight," she said, handing Bex a pillow.

"Goodnight, Em. See you in the morning."

Emily nodded and left the room, shutting her bedroom door behind her. Once she was gone, Bex reached for her damp duffel bag, and took out her memory box. She popped the secret compartment open, and carefully took out the photo of herself holding Andi. She studied it in the dim moonlight, through fresh tears. "I miss you, Andi," she whispered. "Mama loves you." She realized Andi would be sleeping by then. "Goodnight, baby." She kissed the photo, and slipped it under her pillow.

* * *

The week went by quickly, and Friday night came. Bex woke up to Emily and Tori arguing.

"She needs to leave by tomorrow night, or I will report you," Tori said loudly. "She's a slob. She leaves her clothes and towels everywhere. She doesn't need to be here."

"She's my best friend!" Emily said firmly. "I can't just throw her out. She's going through a lot."

"I don't give a crap what she's going through," Tori snapped. "Whatever it is, it's her problem. Not ours."

"You don't understand!" Emily told her.

"It's okay," Bex said, joining them in the kitchen. "I'll leave. I just need to find a place to stay and I'm gone."

"You don't have to, Bex," Emily said sadly.

"No, it's time," Bex told her. "I don't want to come between you two."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'm sure."

* * *

Later that evening, Emily decided that Bex needed some cheering up. "There's a party tonight. we should go."

"I don't want to go to a party," Bex lamented. "I'm not in the mood. And I have too much to do. I have to find a place to live." How she would _afford_ a place to live was another story.

"It'll be good for you to get out," Emily told her. "It's not good for you to hang around feeling sorry for yourself all the time. And maybe if we give Tori some space, she'll come around. Just come with me, and if you hate it, we can leave."

"Fine," Bex finally relented. "We'll go."

"You won't be sorry," Emily smiled. "Let's find you something to wear."

* * *

The music pounded in Bex's chest as she and Emily walked up the steps of the house where the party was being held. It was a big house, and every window was lit up. People milled around, hanging out on the porch, drinking from plastic cups and talking.

Bex's heart was heavy, but no one could tell by looking at her. Emily had found her a black skirt that fit decently, if not a little too short, and a cute top. She'd done her makeup and hair for her. Bex had been hanging around in a flannel shirt and sweatpants all week, so this was quite a change.

The house was crowded with college kids. The floor was littered with cups and cigarette butts, and Bex even had to sidestep a discarded condom (she didn't even _want_ to know), as she and Emily wove through the throng of kids. The house smelled bad, but Bex couldn't name what it smelled like exactly. Her head throbbed with the loud, pulsing music.

"Let's get a drink!" Emily shouted. She pulled Bex into the kitchen. There was a keg, and she filled them both a cup. "Are you having fun?"

"Not really," Bex admitted. She felt incredibly lonely, even though she was surrounded by at least a hundred people.

Someone in the other room called Emily's name, and Emily waved. "I want to go say hi to someone. I'll be right back." She left, and was immediately sucked into the crowd.

Bex took a long drink of beer, as she took in her surroundings. She heard some glass break in the next room, followed by a burst of laughter and shouting.

There was some food laid out on the counter. She inspected it, and settled on a pan of brownies. She cut herself a big brick. When she was depressed, she always binged on sweets.

"I would go easy on those if I were you," a voice said behind her.

Bex turned around. A guy about her age, maybe a few years older, stood there studying her. "Why?"

"You do know those are 'special' brownies?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Word is they're pretty strong."

Bex put the brownie back in the pan. "Thanks for the warning."

"I'd be careful with the punch, too," he smiled. He had shiny black hair, tan skin, and dark brown eyes. They were so dark, they were nearly black. When he smiled, he had deep dimples in each cheek, just like Bowie. She winced, remembering Bowie's smile, and wondered not for the first time where he was and what he was doing at that moment.

The guy took her glass and refilled it, then pulled up a bar stool and implored her to do the same. "Do you go to school here?"

Bex sat down. "No. I'm just staying with a friend."

"I didn't think you did," he said, smiling wider. "I think I'd have noticed you. You're really beautiful, if you don't mind me saying." He laughed nervously. His teeth were white and straight. "How long are you going to be around? I'm hoping it's for a while." He chuckled. "And yes, that's me, shamelessly hoping for a date."

"I really don't know," Bex admitted, blushing. "I have to leave my friend's by tomorrow, and I don't really have a plan after that." She took a long sip of her drink. "I'm kind of going through a rough patch," she admitted. She didn't know why she was telling a perfect stranger so much, but there was something about him that made it seem okay.

The guy's dark eyes twinkled. He reached for her hand and squeezed it shyly. He was so cute, he made Bex's heart race in a way no one had since Bowie. "Maybe this is super-forward of me... but if you need a place to crash, I have my own place. There's plenty of room."

"Seriously?" Bex asked, raising an eyebrow. "You don't know anything about me! I could be a serial killer!"

 _"Are_ you a serial killer?" he asked with an amused grin.

"No," she admitted, with a giggle. Her body was starting to become warm, and her head was beginning to buzz from the alcohol. "What about you?"

"No," he laughed. "Though I have been known to destroy a box of Cap'n Crunch."

"Still," Bex said, suppressing a laugh. "You don't even know my name! And I don't know yours."

"Well, why don't we get to know each other right now, and get that out of the way?" he asked. "What's your name?" He looked deep into her eyes, waiting for her answer.

"Rebecca," she said. "But please, call me Bex."

He shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Bex. I'm Gabriel."

 **Epilogue: 13 years later**

As Bex packed her meager belongings into her worn duffel bag, she struggled to hold back tears.

This was deja vu all over again, her packing up her things, leaving her baby in the middle of the night. She'd come home to get her life back together, at last. To live up to her responsibilities, and make amends. And in less than 48 hours, she'd already blown it. Maybe she really was the flake her mother thought she was?

The truth was, the past thirteen years had been full of hardship. She'd suffered abuse at the hands of a man she'd thought she'd loved. She'd slept outside in the cold, and there were days she didn't know where her next meal was coming from.

But nothing hurt Bex more than hearing her baby tell her that she felt like she was nothing to her; just some girl she occasionally sent gifts to. That she wasn't important enough to be in Bex's memory box. It hurt her straight to her heart. If Andi didn't want her, nothing else mattered. There was no point in anything.

"Bex?"

Bex looked up to see Andi standing there in her pajamas. She looked so small, her cheeks still holding onto a little baby fat, and her eyes looked sleepy. Something maternal in Bex that hadn't been nurtured for a very long time ached. She'd always see Andi as that little pudgy baby she used to know, no matter how big she got.

"Great. I woke you," she said soberly. "It's been a banner day." She sighed. "Don't worry. I'm leaving first thing in the morning."

"No, Bex, don't go!" Andi pleaded. "I don't want you to. I take back what I said, every word of it."

"You don't have to," Bex said. It was all she could do not to scoop Andi up in her arms and hold her.

"Can I though?" Andi begged. "Please? Because you were right. These _are_ the moments I'll remember. Jonah Beck texted me. I don't even know how he has my number."

"Don't be mad, but I gave it to him," Bex admitted, bracing herself for another round of pre-teen drama.

"You did?"

"But he asked for it though," she clarified. She listened to Andi lose herself in excitement for a moment. It reminded her of how she felt when she'd first met Bowie. She couldn't believe her little girl was already boy crazy. "I'm just glad you're happy."

"So you'll stay?" Andi asked her.

"I can't," she told Andi firmly.

"Yeah you can!" Andi prattled. "Everything's okay."

"Give me a minute and it won't be," she said, going back to her packing.

Andi protested some more. "These are the moments you'll remember? I'm just quoting you."

"Well, I've made too many mistakes," Bex told her. She was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation, as it tread further into dangerous territory.

"When?" her daughter asked her.

"Today," Bex said. "And yesterday, and the day before that, and every single day of your life." The ironic thing was, the catalyst of her mistakes, that damn crib, had been recalled several years earlier for injuring infants. Andi's accident had never been her fault at all. Not that anyone would care anymore. And it didn't change everything Bex had done after.

"What are you talking about?" Andi asked. Her round face had become pale. "You're scaring me."

"You should be scared." Bex gestured to her memory box. "Do you think you're not here? You are." She opened the box, and pried the secret compartment open. There was no going back now. The voice in the back of her mind that sounded uncannily like Celia was screaming at her, but she ignored it. She couldn't take it anymore. No more secrets. No more lies. They were hurting Andi, and they were hurting her.

Carefully, she took the worn photo of herself holding newborn Andi. That photo was the most precious thing she owned. She'd held it and looked at it so often, the corners were soft and fuzzy, and it was creased. Seeing it had gotten her through the hardest times in her life. She would keep it in her memory box as long as she lived.

Slowly, she passed the picture to Andi. The young girl held it carefully, studying it. "Is that _you?"_ She seemed confused, not quite grasping what she was seeing. But she was close, Bex knew. Andi was so bright.

She nodded. "And that's _you."_ She pointed to the tiny infant.

Andi's face creased as she looked at her questioningly. There was no going back now. "Andi," she breathed, taking the plunge... it was now or never. "I'm not your sister. I'm your mother."

 **The End... thank you to everyone who stuck with me and read this story! It was my pleasure to write it! :)**


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